


Erin Chambers

by Ozferret



Category: Daria (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:09:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 68,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozferret/pseuds/Ozferret
Summary: What if Erin Chambers moved to Boston to start a new life?





	1. Acknowledgements

Erin Chambers.

A huge thanks to Richard Lobinske for his support

The following stories derive from the “Falling Into College” series. If you have not read it, you should. It is really good.  
(https://www.fanfiction.net/s/2290047/1/Falling-Into-College-Year-1). 

In it Erin Chambers moves to Boston.  
(http://www.outpost-daria.com/fanfic/fic39_and_the_bubble_burst.html)

The following tale starts there and follows her new life in Boston  
Please enjoy

Ozferret


	2. Boston

Erin held the paycheck in both hands and read her name again. They would have the bank details in their system next week.  
_Yes. Finally getting my own life back_ she thought.

  
She looked around the apartment, her apartment she mentally corrected and then back to the check in her hand.  
Her money. From her job. In her name.  
Erin's joy was dampened by the amount. She earned less than she had spent this week, on the apartment bond, stocking up on food, and warm clothes.  
Most of her savings had gone into her move to Boston and the sale of joint assets was being contested. Any income was treasured. She laughed at the thought of what her grandmother would think about precious Erin shopping at a thrift store.

Erin's expression darkened, _Fuck what they think! They can all go to hell_  
Erin shook her head, "What kind of family is it, being alone is better?"  
Finding one happy memory Erin recalled a family member who had been kind, who had supported her and had been a role model. Daria.  
Daria and her friend Jane were the only people who had helped her for her benefit rather than for their own gain. Jane was not even family, Erin wondered if you could divorce your family.  
Erin still had a printed copy of the email Jane sent her. The one pebble started the avalanche of her new life.

 _To: Erin Chambers_  
Hi,  
I hope the rest of your day went better. I stayed at my parents' Sunday night and got safely back to Boston on Monday. I've been thinking about what you said, and how you looked.  
I don't know how much it will help, but I've have always had good ears.

Daria and Jane were the reason Erin was in Boston. They were the reason Erin was, well, starting anew.  
"I'll give her a call", Erin said aloud, heading for the phone on the table.  
Before she crossed that small space, doubt assailed her  
Will she be in?  
What if she is studying? She might hate the interruption.  
She is probably with her boyfriend.  
It is Friday night, they are probably out.  
Erin's hand hovered over the phone and then picked up her keys and phone and left her apartment.  
If Daria can go out, so can I!  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
Daria lifted her head from her text book and looked at the phone. Her expression puzzled.  
Michael, disturbed from his reading by her movement asked "What?"  
"For some reason I thought the phone was about to ring"  
Michael and Daria stared at the phone then together said "Nah" and returned to their study.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
Erin wandered down the street in the cold Boston night. With the chaos of moving, moving in, starting work, Erin had little time to explore beyond the nearest bus stop. Most of her shopping had been during her lunch break. She knew the area around her work place much better than the streets she was currently walking.  
Small, cheap apartments and Educational Institutions are often found together so many of the people sharing the side walk with her were young, traveling in small, laughing groups.  
"Drugstore here", Erin noted as she walked past, “that will be worth remembering”.  
"Cafe, currently closed"  
"Hair dresser. Might have to save up for that"  
"News agent and stationery”  
A group of young men in university jackets flowed around her as they passed the opposite way. The last turned to her, "Evening". His bright smile took Erin by surprise.  
"Oh. Yes. Evening", Erin responded  
The leader of the group called out “Keep up or get left behind"  
The smiler offered Erin a wink, before turning and running after the group.  
"I need a drink ", Erin thought.

The next block offered two bars. From the first the music pounded the street in a rhythmic assault and the interior pulsed with lights and moving bodies  
“Dance place, that will be worth remembering"  
The second bar opened on to the street, and was a little quieter. The two men standing near the door, surveying the crowd, reminded her of Brian in a way she did not like.  
"God. Just how hard is it to get a drink in Boston? "  
Pressing on with her newfound determination Erin found a small unobtrusive neon sign. Pointing down a narrow flight of stairs it said simply "G-BAR". The sounds emanating from below combined the clink of glass, soft conversation all against the background of mellow jazz guitar. It was so unlike any place Brian had ever taken her, on those rare occasions he bothered to take her anywhere, she was halfway down the stairs before she realised she had entered.  
Soft amber lighting made the room seem smokier than it was, giving the feel of a prohibition speak-easy. Small groups in quiet conversation, seated at round tables to her left and the long but unoccupied bar to her right did not dispel the initial impression. A couple danced in a slow embrace in the shadows at the back of the room.  
Realising she was blocking the stairs and was the centre of attention Erin hurried to the bar. A man with short spiked dyed blond hair and wearing a leather vest and no shirt watched her arrival from behind the bar. As Erin hoisted herself onto one of the high barstools he asked "What will it be, my dear?"  
Erin did not have an immediate answer. She remembered Brian spilling beer down his shirt,  
"Not beer".  
The barman nodded smiling in a gentle, encouraging way.  
Erin remembered her mother Rita and her aunt Helen at Erin's wedding sitting on the stairs passing a bottle of wine between them,  
"Not wine!"  
The barman nodded again, "Two down. We have about another eighty different drinks to go, more if you count cocktails."  
Erin could not remember the last time she had gone out for a quiet drink on her own.  
In a lost tone she asked "What do you suggest?"  
With a large smile and a bold flourish the barman gestured to the rack of spirit bottles behind him, "For the undecided lady about town, Gregor recommends ...” with a dancer’s extravagant moves he took a tall glass , placed a shot of clear spirit within, and filled the glass with something bubbly. A leaf twisted of a mint plant growing on the bar, a slice of lemon and a slice of lime all joined the contents of the glass.  
Placing the glass on a mat before Erin, "...a Gin and Tonic". Gregor completed his performance with a low sweeping bow.  
Erin, unsure what to do after such a performance, lightly applauded. "Um. Thanks"  
She looked around and saw no one else was paying her or Gregor any attention. She sipped her drink and found it to be delicious.  
Gregor took a towel and wiped at non-existent spills, "So, you are new in town?"  
Erin could not place his accent. European? She nursed her drink and nodded. "Yes. I moved in just over a week ago"  
Leaning on bar Gregor asked, "First time out on your own?"  
Erin only nodded in reply.  
"You are too late for a semester start. A transfer from another collage?"  
Erin placed her drink back on the coaster. She thought Gregor was quite charming. Was he trying to pick her up? Wasn't there a barkeeper's Code of Conduct?  
"No I'm not at College. I have a job"  
Gregor smiled "Well, before we go too far let Gregor explain the G-Bar rules. One. Everyone plays nice. You leave your fights and tiffs outside. No really means no."  
Gregor lightly tapped the bar in front of Erin, "You sit this end of the bar you are open for a pickup".  
He pointed to the far end of the bar, “sit that end … You vant to be lefht a-lone".  
The last words were a reasonable Greta Garbo impersonation extracting a giggle from Erin.  
Bringing his hands together and raising his eyes as in prayer Gregor said "Here endeth the reading of the Rules of G-Bar"  
Erin's eyes widen with realisation "G-Bar. Gregor. This is your bar!”  
Erin became aware of the sudden cessation of conversations behind her as Gregor's face displayed a series of expressions. Surprise, wariness, understanding and finally resting on suppressed amusement.  
Shaking his head slightly, his eyes never leaving Erin's he said, "You are a sheltered little one, aren’t you?"  
Erin felt her stomach clench. She had done something wrong. She knew it.  
Gregor asked her gently, “You do know this is a gay bar, don't you?"

Erin’s hand flew to her mouth, her cheek flushing crimson.  
Gregor watched her reaction with an amused smile, “Gregor is going to take a guess and say, No. You didn't know"  
Erin shook her head "No no. Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude."  
Looking over her shoulder she now realised the tables were grouped by gender. Hands were being held, some under the table, some above. The couple that had been dancing and where now watching her were both women.  
Everyone was watching her, waiting. Erin knew what she did next was going to have long reaching effects and she wish she knew what to do.  
Her mother and her grandmother had spent all her life telling her how to behave. Why could they not include "What to do when you accidentally walk into a gay bar"?  
Erin waved shyly to the entire room "Hi”. Conversations slowly started up again and a petite tattooed blond waved back.

Erin turned back to Gregor "I'll finish my drink and go"  
"No need to go, but Gregor does suggest you move a bit further down the bar”. Gregor picked up her drink and moved it several barstools further down the bar, "here people may talk to you, but they won’t hit on you".  
As Gregor turned Erin asked "Why? I mean it's not illegal"  
Gregor turned back, "Illegal? No. But Gregor does not think there is anyone here that has not been abused, harassed and in some cases attacked. It is nice to have a safe place"  
"Then I am intruding"  
Gregor shrugged "A little. But it was an innocent mistake and as long don't break the rules you can stay,"  
Erin raiser her drink in salute "Thank you. Um do you always refer to you always refer to yourself in the third person?”  
“Gregor always does”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
As Erin lay on her bed later that night she realised she had survived her first Boston adventure. She’d had another Gin and tonic or G'nT as Gregor insisted they were called. No one had approached her but no one had been hostile and a couple of people had given her a friendly smile as she left.  
A safe place. Exactly what she was looking for. Erin sighed. It was a pity she was not gay.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------  
Jane Lane rocked back in her chair and laughed. "You went where?!"  
Erin grinned sheepishly, "To a gay bar", a little defensively she added, "The people there are really nice and I didn’t know the first time"  
"Of course not." Daria mocked gently, "I mean it's not like they called it anything obvious like, for example, G-Bar"  
This observation brought the women to peals of laughter again.  
Karen recovered first, "Wait. Wait. Did you say the first time? You went back?"  
Erin blushed, "Well I did not want them to think I was judging them, and it’s got a lovely atmosphere”  
Karen added "and don't have to worry about a guy trying to get into your pants"  
"Just the girls you have to watch" Jane rejoined  
Daria's dry tone cut under the laughter "Jane speaks from experience here"  
"Oh you will pay for that Morgandorffer. If Erin had not shown up with this impressive hooch, I'd be turning you into an artwork that would scare Hieronymus Bosch".  
Jane turned to Erin, "You aren’t changing sides on us are you? Cause I know a couple of nice girls from BFAC"  
Erin poured herself another shot and topped it with tonic, "No. Nothing like that. But if I do I’ll make sure you are the last to know."  
The more than slightly inebriated friends found this irresistibly funny.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------


	3. Working for the man.

Erin hung her outside coat on the rack and placed her bag under her Desk. Still shivering she looked around the office. Why does anyone live this far north? It is so cold. They cannot all be escaping their grandmother.

Noting that she was one of the first in, Erin headed to office kitchen. She had picked up her morning coffee near her home, drinking that while she waited for the T.   
Her current target, Hot Chocolate.   
Anne was already in the kitchen fumbling through loading the coffee machine. Erin deftly removed the glass pot from Anne's clumsy fingers.  
Anne blinked at Erin and mumbled, “Thanks"  
"Are you OK, Anne?"  
The young business analyst extended her hand and then slowly rocked it from side to side. "Par-tay. I used to do this every night. Now I'm 24, I'm not sure I can do this anymore"  
"So hard to be old", Erin joked as she prepared the coffee.

Water in there; coffee, 8 scoops in there; pot goes there. Switch to on.  
"Bless you”, Anne said as the coffee machine emitted its telltale gurgle.  
Erin grinned as she turned towards the kettle, "Remember to say nice things to Mr. Stojoski when my review comes up."  
"Dennis. His name is Dennis."  
"Anne. You work with him. I work for him." Erin poured hot water over the instant chocolate in her mug." It makes a difference"

Back at her desk, mug of hot chocolate steaming, Erin logged on to her computer and quickly scanned her email. There was nothing that warranted her immediate attention. From her desk draw Erin withdrew the folder of procedures, and called "The Bible” and followed the process to access Mr Stojoski’s email. Zoe, her office mentor, had hammered home the importance of following "The Bible". "Better to be wrong by the procedures than right another way”, Zoë had said. Erin thought that sounded stupid, but had kept that opinion to herself.

Mr Stojoski was at a conference till Wednesday and he had been phoning Erin just after 9 am to get a summary of his emails. Erin quickly skimmed through the emails highlighting those emails that needed her boss's personal attention.  
Erin’s phone rang, "Welcome to Boston Products, you are speaking with Erin", after a small pause she said," Yes Mr Stojoski, I have that list here".

Seven hours, 23 phone calls and 15 long emails later, Erin hung up the phone and rested her head in her hands. If she was this busy when her boss was away, how would she cope when he was here?  
"Erin"  
The voice behind her made Erin jump. "Zoe! You startled me"  
The social circle of Erin's childhood had not exposed her to many powerful, confident, black women, so she found Zoe a bit overwhelming.  
Zoe cocked her head, "You better hurry if you want to make your train. Tough phone call?"  
Erin sighed, "Frustrating. I rang to confirm Mr Stokowski’s return flight and found out that they had lost his meal preferences. It took over an hour to get those re-established"  
Zoe nodded. "That can be a bitch. I just wanted to tell you I'll be away till Friday. Will you be OK till then?"  
"Sure Zoe. After all I've got "The Bible". Erin patted the Procedures manual.  
Zoe grinned "As long as you keep the faith you'll be fine. Now go home, before you faint"  
Erin packed up, carefully logged out and locked her desk draws. She was exhausted. The trip on the T seemed to take twice as long she expected. 

A few days later Erin sat cross legged on her bed with her Phone held in her hand. With a resigned sigh she dialled a number.   
"Hello? Mother? Mother it's Erin. I'm doing fine. No - No I don't need anything. Yes, the job is good. I've made a friend there; she works in the same office, but in a different team."  
Erin tugged at a loose thread on the bedspread as she listened to her mother’s stream of questions," Mr Stojoski. He was away for the first part at the week but he is back now. Work actually got easier once he got back."  
Erin's tone became mildly exasperated “I don't know. It's not important.”  
Erin’s eyes widened with surprise, “No! I am not asking after my Boss’s family tree! That would be weird.”  
“Well there are a lot of things they do in Virginia that they don't do in Boston", Erin replied with her nose wrinkling at the distasteful suggestion. "Thank god", Erin muttered under her breath.   
Attempting to regain some control, Erin asked "So how are things going at home?" Erin nodded at the reply "Well, it will take time. Is Aunt Helen helping? Oh. I guess that makes sense"  
Erin drew a deep breath, her tone becoming more forceful" No Mother, I am not dating any one and I want to get my life in order before I even consider that. "  
"Yes, Mother, I understand that. I need to go Mother. I'll call another time, Say hello to Grandmother."  
Erin hung up and stared at the phone “That went better than I had expected”, she said to herself.  
She got up placing the phone on the table, ''Dating! Why would I even consider that? We don't need a man, mother. Might be a good lesson for you to learn, as well"  
Erin studied the contents of her kitchen cupboard “Noodles with fake chicken flavour, noodles with fake beef flavour or noodles with fake vegetables? Beef. In honour of mother"

The afternoon of the following day, Dennis Stojoski sat across his desk from his new Personal Assistant. He looked up from the report on his desk to the nervous young woman sitting across from him. He smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring.   
“Erin. How are you enjoying your time here”?  
Erin’s smile was less certain than her bosses. It was Friday afternoon and she had no idea why she had been called into her boss’s office.   
“It’s ... I am enjoying it very much. Thank you”  
Mr Stojoski returned his attention to the pages in front of him for a moment.   
“I’m pleased Erin. It usually takes a few weeks to get settled, and from what I have heard you are doing well. “  
Erin looked a little startled. What he had heard? Was someone reporting to him about her?  
She widened her smile a little, “Well I’ve tried to make friends, and I have worked with The Bible.   
Mr. Stojoski frowned slightly. , “Ah yes. The bible. Erin, procedures are good, but there will be times when I want you to make intelligent decisions, not just follow the procedures. Your previous employer said you had a spark. There will be times when I need you to use that”.  
Erin swallowed, “Zoe said ...”  
Mr Stojoski cut Erin off with a laugh, “Zoe is a great believer in the procedures. She should, she wrote them. But you work for me, not her. And so far, I am pleased with your work. You did an excellent job while I was away, and I understand you sorted out my flight meals, twice”  
“Uh, yes Sir”  
“So good. I have no further need of you today. Head off now. You have earned it.”  
As Erin rose from her seat, Mr Stojoski added, “There will be days when you work back. So don’t think I’m being too generous.”  
Erin smiled and nodded, “No, I mean, Yes. Um. Thank you.”  
Erin allowed herself a small satisfied smile as she left her boss’s office.  
Zoe was waiting at her desk.   
As Erin approached, Zoe said, “Well. Based on that smile, I’d say you still work here.”  
‘That I do”, Erin replied.  
“Great! Friday night some of the girls treat ourselves to a night out. Are you joining us?”  
Erin considered for half a second before saying,” Alright, count me in. Where are we going?”  
Zoe’s smile got bigger, “I have no idea. We spend all our week organising other people, we aren’t got no time to organise ourselves. We just go, and see where we wind up.”  
“See you in the foyer”, Zoe called over her shoulder as she left.   
Erin hummed a popular song as she rapidly tidied her desk and thought, “So this is what running your own life feels like.”

They tried a few bars and clubs before finding one on which everyone agreed.  
Erin, Zoe, Anne, Michelle, Asha and Monica sat in a sheltered alcove, protected from the pulse of the bar’s music. Conversation was just possible. Erin had forgone her usual Gin and Tonic to share the sparkling white wine.   
“So?” Monica asked leaning slightly towards Erin.  
“So?” Erin repeated uncertain of what was being asked.  
“So what do you think?”  
“About here or about the Job?”  
“Either? Both?”  
“Well The Job is good. Mr Stojoski seems nice. I’m not sure I read him all that well. But I think I’ll be able to do the job”  
Anne laughed, “Dennis. It’s not like it’s a hard name”  
Erin just poked her tongue out at Anne.  
Asha grinned and said, “Wait till he gets stressed.”  
Erin joked, “Well I’ll just have to see that he never gets stressed.”  
“Good luck with that”, Monica joked as she topped up everyone’s glasses, emptying the last of that bottle.  
Michelle raised her glass, “You have some big shoes to fill”  
Erin noticed Zoe’s expression darken slightly.  
Erin asked, “Who, why?”  
Michelle sipped her wine, “Nicole. She was one hot gun.”  
Zoe shook her head, “She made a lot of things up on the spur of the moment.”  
Michelle said, “Well she must have got some things right, she was promoted into Management. I’ve never heard of a PA doing that”  
Monica, “True, too true. The best we can hope for is to work for a higher up, not be one.”  
Zoe countered, “She is just a team leader in an off-shoot division.”  
Monica held up the empty bottle, “Do we want to split another?”  
Zoe got up, “Hell no. Let’s dance!”  
Asha waved them away, “I’ll mind the bags, I’m too wobbly to dance right now”. Monica remained seated, the rest group waded into the dancing crowd and the beat of the music.

Much later, when the music was quieter and slow and there were only a few determined couples left on the dance floor. Erin sat with Anne and Michelle. Asha and Monica had decided to try a new dance club, and had gone to find it with the two guys that had talked to them while the others danced. Zoe had complained about too many late nights and her husband's early rising and had left soon after.  
Michelle looked over the rim of her empty glass at Erin, “So tell us a bit about yourself”.  
Erin had been expecting this question much earlier. She half shrugged one shoulder, “Do you want the truth, or some colourful story?” Erin had every intention of telling the truth but her share of three bottles of wine and two rums had made her playful.  
Michelle smiled, “Too late in the night for stories.”  
“Well I’m twenty five, no Sorry. Twenty seven. I’m recently divorced. I live in a flat above a flower shop. Umm? I work with you lot. Oh. I come from Virginia”.  
Erin had let the last sentence flow with an exaggerated Virginian accent causing her companions to laugh.  
Michelle attempted a sip from her empty glass, “Divorced? Nasty?”  
Erin sighed and looked at the table, “A bit. We should have never married in the first place. I never would have married him if he hadn’t… Well there was family pressure.”  
Anne asked gently, “Kids?”  
“What?” Erin looked shocked. “Oh. No. Nothing like that. That’s all behind me. Starting anew in sunny Boston.”  
“You came here in winter, “Anne said, “Boston is just going to get better and better”  
“Till the end of fall”, Michelle added  
Anne asked, “So if you are starting anew, are you hunting a little company to warm your flower shop?”  
Michelle waved her hand at Anne shooing, “Give her some space.”  
Anne disagreed, “No.” Looking at Erin, “You need to start sampling the field, so when you are ready, you got a taste for the Boston flavour”  
Michelle shook her head, “Anne, you are disgusting”  
Anne wrote on the back of her business card, “Look at this website, it’s the one I use. Well one of them. Worst that happens is you get bought a lot of coffee.”  
Erin took the card and looked at the address written on it, “I don’t even have a computer yet.”  
Michelle, cautioned, “Don’t use the work one, whatever you do”  
Anne nodded, “Not at work, but libraries have computers you can use.”  
Erin, put the card in her handbag, “I’m not making any promises.”

Later that night, as she sat alone on her bed, Erin pulled Anne’s card out of her bag and studied it. Why did every one want her to start dating? As far as she was concerned, she may never date again. Still she tucked the card into her purse and turned out the light.


	4. Weekend Wanderings

Erin drifted awake. She allowed sounds to wash over her. The soft and rhythmic click that her fridge produced. The muted hum of the traffic outside. The muffled conversations below as the purchase of flowers took place. Erin was warm, she was rested and to her sleepy surprise she was happy. She decided that she preferred Studio Apartment to Efficiency Apartment. It sounded more artistic and it was basically the same thing. Erin had no firm plans for the weekend and seriously contemplated spending the day in bed. The demands of her biology insisted that she swing her feet onto the rug on the floor and visit the only other room a studio apartment had. With her morning forcibly started Erin resisted the call of the bed and busied herself with the tasks of breakfast.   
Over oats and honey Erin had decided that exploring her local area would be the best use of the morning. She would walk in a different direction and see what she had found by lunch.

Erin's travels had led her past high density housing punctuated by old and shabby buildings, much like her own, and small clusters of shops. Erin's careless wanderings were brought to a stop by the sight at an elderly woman teetering at the top of an extension ladder while she attempted to replace a light globe. Erin ran to steady the ladder and the woman fitted the globe and descend in safety.  
Turning to face Erin the woman said, "Thank you dear".  
The woman who faced Erin, other than age and gender, had little in common with her grandmother. Tall, thin, a face lined with the hard knocks of life, yet a mouth more given to smiling. Clothes that were more function than fashion.  
Erin realised she was staring.

"What’s your name, girl?" the woman asked. "You can call me Marge"  
"Erin", Erin replied.  
Marge smiled, “Pretty name, Erin. And I thank you for your fast thinking. Most like you saved me from harm"  
Erin shrugged "I didn't want you to fall”  
Marge chuckled and said "Didn't much want that myself. You’re not from round here, eh?"  
Erin shook her head, "No. Why were you up the ladder on your own? With no one holding?"  
Marge looked up at the sign below the light she had just replaced. DORA LEE COMUNITY LIBRBARY the fresh paint proclaimed. Little else of the building could claim to be either fresh or painted.  
Marge said "Part of the bequest. The library needs to be open to the public by the end of tomorrow, and we are short staffed and running late"  
Marge studied Erin and then said, "Say. Do you know anything about computers? We got given one but it’s all bits and pieces and the boy who promised to set it up never showed. "  
Erin considered her limited experience which mostly consisted of watching Luke from IT quietly curse her work computer, "A little, I guess"  
"Great", Marge enthused, "come in and I'll show you where it is"  
Swept along by Marge's enthusiasm Erin wondered if all elderly women were so domineering or had she been trained from childhood to obey them. 

The computer Marge presented was not as disassembled as Erin had feared, and it did have a passing similarly with her work computer.  
Marge gestured to the pile on the table," Do what you can. I've a score of boxes to unpack" and with that Erin was left to her task.   
There were no instructions but by a process of elimination, 45 minutes later Erin pressed the start button and was rewarded by the whir and hum of a desktop computer coming to life.  
Marge appeared from the maze of shelves and boxes and dust, and pressed a cold can of Ultra-Cola into Erin's hand.  
"Understand young people drink this. Can't stand it myself. Too sweet. “, Marge said.  
Looking at the working computer Marge said, "Well done", she waved over towards a corner, "they put a cable in that wall. I can't tell you what it is for, but I can tell you that it is blue"  
Erin investigated the indicated corner and found the cable. It was blue. Based purely on the fact that the data cable for her work computer was also blue she uncoiled the cable and lead it the machine she had just assembled. She found only one socket that had any chance of accepting the plug at the end of the cable in her hand, so plug met socket and the union was consummated with a happy click.  
"That wasn't so hard", Erin said looking around. 

No one was in sight. Uncertain if she should stay or leave, she decided to explore the computer she had just created.   
Erin looked through the installed programs and found the list very comprehensive. This computer had not been cleaned out before donation. Further exploration of directories confirmed her suspicions. 

The directory "sams_stash" opened to reveal pages of image files. Erin opened one at random.   
She closed it immediately!   
Pausing a moment, Erin opened another file. While the image was different, the topic was the same. With a fascinated horror, Erin opened the next file.   
Here she paused as she tried to work out which bit belonged to who. It was not obvious.  
Erin was no prude. She was 26. She had been married. This was the 2000's. She clicked onto the next file.   
Now that the shock was receding, she viewed the pictures with a clinical curiosity. She wondered who these people were, how did such pictures get taken and occasionally how that was physically possible. Looking at the directory statistics she saw that there were over two thousand files. Erin doubted this was the only directory.

Erin startled as she heard someone enter the library. In a panicked rush she closed the file viewer and stood, shielding the computer behind her. Her heart was racing.   
Marge wended her way past the shelves towards Erin's corner followed by a short, heavy woman dressed entirely in black.   
To forestall any questions Erin asked, "Where did this computer come from?”  
Marge stooped slightly to study Erin, "Are you alright? You look a little flushed"  
Erin replied, “No no. I'm fine. The computer?"  
Marge turned to look at the woman behind her who shrugged. Turning back to Erin Marge said "It was a donation. It belonged to a son of a contributor. He left it behind when he went to college. Why? Is there a problem with it?  
Erin still shielded the computer, “No. Just it has a lot of old files on it."  
Erin could feel herself blushing.   
"It is ours now", the short woman interrupted in an Italian accent, "clean them off. We need the space for the catalogue.”  
Marge nodded, "Yes Rosa. You are right." Looking at Erin, "Unless you think these files might be good for the library."  
Erin shook her head vigorously.  
"Spend another half hour cleaning them up, we can take you to lunch. Afraid we can't pay you, but we can put you on the volunteer list. That will give you free access to the library.” Marge considered for a moment, "Though as a community library, everyone has free access".  
Erin forced a smile, "That will be fine. Half an hour should be plenty.  
Marge smiled, “We’ll be in and out, and we'll try and stay out of your hair"  
As Marge and Rosa left, Erin turned the screen around so it no longer faced into the library.

Fifteen minutes later Erin believed she had removed all the questionable files and directories. She had looked at a few more but the repetition had become boring. The directory labelled "clowns" she did not open at all.  
With free time and free access Erin dug into her purse and found Anne's business card. Accessing the website written on the back she found herself in unknown territory.   
The pages of faces all trying to look alluring reminded her of the files she just deleted and was about to logout when, for a whim, she searched for Anne. Anne's photo was more glamor shot than a pouty pose. Presenting her in a business suit, her description was more professional than the desperate pleas that Erin had first encountered.   
"Good enough for Anne, good enough for me" Erin thought and quickly crafted a basic entry, saying little more than the bare necessities. Selecting the check boxes that seemed the most harmless she clicked the 'Ladies register for free' button. A message appeared on the screen that there were over eighty matches that would be emailed to her. Erin was startled, "I need to be more selective" she thought. 

The sound of Marge and Rosa returning prompted Erin to shut down the computer and gather her belongings. She was getting rather hungry.  
"Is it ready for use?” Marge asked as she arrived.  
Erin smiled, "Yes. It is all nice and clean". Erin could barely stop herself for giggling.  
"Good" Rosa announced, “Now we eat."  
"Lunch would be lovely," Erin said "But it looks like you have a limited budget, so I can just head home."  
"No!” Rosa's response was so sharp it was almost a bark, “We eat at my daughter’s.”  
"Rosa's daughter runs an Italian restaurant ", Marge added by way of explanation.

More than an hour later Erin pushed the finally empty plate away from her. She had not known how wonderful good lasagne actually was.  
"No more. I give in. You win", Erin said as she rubbed her stomach.  
Rosa frowned, "But you have not had desert. It is panacotta. My daughter's panacotta is good."  
Marge added her support, "Erin dear. You really do want to try it"  
"All right", Erin conceded, "A little portion".  
When the deserts were brought out Erin wondered what a large serve would be like. If a small serve filled a plate, would a large serve fill the table?  
Her lunch companions were right. This was very good.   
Erin's attempts at payment generated much hand waving and indignant Italian. The message was clear, so bidding the ladies farewell she began her journey home, attempting not to waddle. Erin was convinced that she had eaten more in the previous meal than she had in the previous day.  
The return to the small Studio apartment above the flower shop took less time than expected and once again she lay on her bed, contented. 

Erin spent most of Sunday doing the things that the Barksdales had servants do. She had access to a shared laundry on the ground floor and after a few false starts had got the washing machine working. Lunch consisted of toasted pop-tarts. The advantage of a small apartment was that it was fast to clean so by early afternoon Erin found herself at a loose end and she decided to see if she could find the community library again.

Her first visit to the library had been the result of aimless wandering and her return trip had been in an overfed haze so Erin was not sure of her directions. Using slightly different streets than before and being whistled at by a pair at teen boys sitting on the steps of a closed paper store, Erin arrived at the "Dora Lee Community Library" to find a small street party in progress. Half the street was blocked off and a small crowd milled about armed with paper plates and plastic cups. Mounted on a raised podium Marge was speaking "and so with my thanks to all those who helped, I now proclaim The Dora Lee Community Library officially open".   
The crowd cheered enthusiastically and a previously unseen band of children in school blazers began a rousing and mostly in key marching tune. Marge appeared from the crowd before Erin.  
"Here is our ladder holder “Marge said "Would have sent you an invitation, but you did not leave any details. Come and get some cake. I think there is some left"  
Erin was again swept along in the older woman’s wake and found herself with a paper plate and a generous slice of rich brown cake  
Erin asked "Is this Italian cake?"  
"No", Marge replied, "It is Dutch spice cake"  
Marge leaned close to Erin's ear and whispered "Better in my opinion, but don't tell Rosa"  
Erin found the cake moist and heavily Cinnamoned  
Marge had turned to the woman guarding the cake" This is Erin, the girl who saved me on the ladder"  
The woman grinned at Erin "Marge has been retelling that story all day. I expected you to have glowing wings and a halo"  
Erin returned the grin and said" Sunday is wash day”  
The woman laughed and rewarded Erin with another slice of cake.  
Marge placed her arm around Erin's shoulders and steered her into the now thinning crowd, "There are more people I want you to meet"

Erin was rapidly introduced to one person after another all of whom had heard the ladder story. When the last of the introductions, congratulations, and statements of gratitude were over, Erin found herself in the library standing beside the beaming Marge.  
"We have done a good thing", Marge stated, surveying the library  
Looking around Erin had to agree, what was yesterday a cluttered and dusty room was today a well-lit and welcoming library. Even her computer had a new desk.  
"Well Erin, I know I roped you into this. Your help was much appreciated. Do you want to be added to the volunteer roster? "  
"What would that involve?", Erin asked  
"Spending an afternoon here occasionally, playing librarian,"  
Erin thought it sounded like work  
Marge sighed," Your face says no. Can I at least get a contact number, in case the computer goes funny?"  
Erin, relieved at the easier option, said" Yes. Yes I can do that, but I cannot take calls during work hours."  
Marge producer a small and tattered note book and the stub at a pencil and Erin wrote in her name and number.  
Marge smiled victorious, " Go, look our around. Borrow a book “, and with that departed with her usual energy.


	5. Another day at the office

Erin finished typing the document, saved it and sent it to the printer. With that task complete she sat back with a contented smile. The job was going well. She was most of the way through her third week and she felt she made a Valuable Contribution. She now understood the filing system; one late night relabelling those fifty files had cemented that lesson. Her typing was still the slowest of all the PA's but that had not been a problem yet and best at all Mr Stojoski had complemented her on her work. Twice. He was away at an all-day Meeting which gave Erin a chance to catch up on her outstanding correspondence.

Erin became aware of someone standing just on the edge of her vision. An older woman in a severe grey skirt suit, matching grey hair in an equally severe bun.  
Erin turned her chair to face the woman.  
"Can I help you?” Erin asked  
"Erin Chambers, I believe" the woman stated  
Erin nodded "That's me". Erin felt that she was missing some unspoken part at the conversation and could not shake the feeling she should stand.  
The Woman's dour expression became, even more stern, "I am Alice Wintergrove”  
Erin had heard the name but not really any reference to it. Erin smiled in what she hoped was a welcoming way. Erin looked around the office and found that everyone was studiously avoiding looking in her direction. Erin’s anxiety increased.  
"The Executive Assistant at the Senior Vice President of this entire division" Alice Wintergrove Continued  
"Oh yes, Ms Wintergrove" Erin said. The urge to stand became over powering and she rose to her feet. Erin found it difficult to imagine anyone calling this woman Alice. Ever.  
Erin found herself being inspected. Should she come to attention? Salute? The notion of saluting was ridiculous and brought a tiny giggle to Erin's lips. Alice Wintergrove's expression indicated the giggle was a mistake.  
"As Executive Assistant to the Senior Vice President I take it upon myself to oversee all the other assistants.  
Frankly I had been hoping for better. Your position is at the utmost importance and quite serious. A fact that seems to escape you. You may wish to review various aspects of your presentation. I am sure your makeup is suitable for a party. Is it suitable for work? You may also wish to dress in a way that you will not be mistaken for a barista at an all-night diner. It is blatantly obvious that you do not recognise that we are the face at this organisation”  
Alice Wintergrove’s gaze became distant and her tone almost reverent, “We are the first impression on which this Company is judged. We, The Assistant Corps, are the first line. We are the smiling face that welcomes new business and old. It is a great and noble responsibility and we must never, ever falter.”  
Erin half expected an angelic choir to start at this point.  
Alice Wintergrove’s attention snapped back to Erin’s face, the disapproval evident, “I hope your behaviour rises to this challenge, though I expect you will be another disappointment.”  
Erin shock and humiliation stunned her to silence.  
Alice Wintergrove turned to leave, "Oh and your typing speed is pathetic. Do at least try to be professional. Be assured, I will be watching you", and with that Alice Wintergrove swept from the room.

The instant the Woman was gone the room exploded into action, Monica and Michelle both raced to Erin from different directions. Anne ran to the kitchen, calling ''COMFORT CHOCOLATE, STAT".

Erin was trembling as Michelle eased her back down into her chair.  
"Are you all right?” Michelle asked, "Erin speak to me"  
Erin's shock was being replaced by burning shame and anger. She was not sure she should speak.  
Monica moved behind Erin's chair and began massaging Erin's shoulders  
"Oh God. she is in shock", Monica said," This is just like Full Metal Jacket"  
Michelle frowned irritated at Monica," No. it's not"  
Looking but at Erin she gently asked, “Erin? Honey? Are You Ok?"  
Anne reappeared from the kitchen carrying, a mug of hot chocolate with the exaggerated care usually reserved for explosives.  
Erin drew a deep breath, “Who the fuck was that!” she shouted.  
Everybody jumped and an Anne let out a startled yelp as the hot chocolate burnt her hand.  
Michelle sat back on her heels," You had us worried there."  
Anne put the mug on Erin's desk and sucked at the reddening patch on the back of her hand  
"Why didn't you come and rescue me? “Erin demanded  
"It would have only made it worse" Michelle answered  
"Self-preservation “Monica added  
Michelle smiled ruefully "That too"  
"But what was that all about?" Erin asked" Have I been doing something wrong? How dare she… I'm doing a good job and she.... She... just shows up”. Tears welled up in Erin's eyes.  
Michelle shook her head, "You are doing fine Erin", Michelle looked at the door the Senior Executive Assistant had departed through," That Bitch is just making a power play"  
Monica squeezed Erin's shoulder "We have all got it”  
"I didn’t.", said Anne" It's a PA thing only. From what I hear any new PA who looks like they are going to stay gets The Treatment. She is establishing the pecking Order"  
Anne twisted her hair up into a quick bun and began a chicken impersonation, complete with clucking.  
The three women laughed.  
"You'll be all right “Monica said to Erin" But don't underestimate her either. She has the VP's ear"  
Anne stopped her chicken dance," Mood kill, Monica", she admonished  
Michelle stood up," You'll be alright", she repeated to Erin," If you want to talk, about this or anything, you can always come to me."  
Erin took a dear breath and sighed" Thanks, Thank you, everyone. We probably should get back to work."  
By the time her boss had returned from his Meeting, Erin had regained her composure, finished her filling and had the correspondence completed and ready for his signature.  
''Anything interesting happen today?" he asked as he reviewed and signed the letters Erin had presented.  
Erin considered the encounter with Alice Wintergrove.  
"Nothing I couldn't handle" Erin replied

Later that night, after a disastrous Cooking attempt including foil, a hot plate, melted cheese and two day old bread, Erin studied her meagre wardrobe. She had a lot of summer clothes, but summer in Virginia was a different experience to winter in Boston. Erin had not expected the cold to be so pervasive, she was even cold in the office .Her last visit to the thrift stone had focused on coats and other outerwear. Perhaps if she just gave up eating she could buy a new outfit.  
Erin shook her head. Damn it! She had let that Woman get to her.  
Damn that woman!  
Damn Brian for being a lying Weasel.  
Damn Grandma for going broke!  
Damn Clothes for being expensive!  
Damn winter for being cold! Erin threw herself on the bed.  
Damn bed for being empty!  
That thought brought Erin's mental rant to a stop.  
"When the hell did that come from?” Erin wondered out loud.  
Erin liked having the bed to herself. She did not wake up cuddling her pillow, except for that one night she had dreamed about Harrison Ford. The last year of her marriage had been so filled with arguments that she and Brian had slept in separate rooms. She was not lonely. So where had that idea come from?  
Erin got back up and studied the bed. She tried to imagine someone else in it. No, nothing.  
Bemused, she tidied the small appointment, cleaned her teeth and went to bed alone. That night she dreamed of Harrison Ford again.

For the rest of the Week Erin kept an eye out for Alice Wintergrove but she did not see her.

On Thursday, Mr Stojoski took Erin to her first meeting. She took notes, got coffee, minded seats and spent her time either running around or being bored out of her mind by comparative budget forecast techniques. She did meet a few other PA’s usually while waiting for coffee. Erin decided that the PA’s fell into one of three categories. Efficient office managers, Arm Candy and her own group, “go-fers”. Mr Stojoski stayed on for dinner and drinks, Erin was sent home.  
Mr Stojoski was not in to work on Friday, so other than answer his phone, take notes and watch out for Alice Wintergrove, she had little to do.  
As Erin was packing up for the day, Zoe ambled into the office and sat on Erin’s desk. Zoe looked tired.  
“I’m sorry”, Zoe said, confusing Erin.  
“I took two days off to look after my husband.” Zoe, continued, “He hasn’t been well. If I had been here I would have kept Super Bitch off you back”  
Erin knew who Zoe meant  
“You can’t guard me every day. She would have got me eventually”  
Zoe sighed, “Probably true. But Still….”  
Zoe said, “There is a party to night. Brett from IT is having a birthday. It’s open to everyone.”  
Erin did not know Brett and said so.  
“Your chance to meet him”, Zoe countered, “He is nice”  
“Are you trying to set me up on a date?” Erin asked  
Zoe looked startled, “Me? No! My mentoring don’t go that far. I think his wife might object too. She’ll be there”  
Erin ducked her head, a little embarrassed, “Sorry. Sure I’ll go, where is it?”  
“The big hotel on the corner, Starts at eight. It’s forty dollars with a set menu and an open bar”  
“Are you going “, Erin asked, thinking of Zoe’s sick partner.  
“Yes. Hubby insisted I get some ‘Me Time’”, Zoe smirked, “but I won’t be out late. By you, don’t have anyone needing your time. You can party all night”  
Erin wondered why this kept coming up. Was a single woman some kind of social vacuum? She was a complete person.  
“Are you going home first? “ Zoe asked breaking Erin’s contemplation  
Erin considered for a few seconds, calculating the time of travel, and her limited clothing options available, “No. I’ll go as I am”  
Zoe said, “Me too. There are a few of us getting an early start. Join us.”  
Erin locked her desk drawer, “Lead the way!”

The party was fun. The $40 charge had left a noticeable gap in her purse but the food, a buffet not a set menu, and the drinks were flowing free. Erin had sampled both extensively. There was a small Dance floor and a steady stream of popular music. Erin danced. Sometimes with the girls from the office, sometimes on her own, occasionally with a variety of young men brought to her more by the process at Brownian motion than deliberate intent. No one had asked her to dance; it was not really that kind of party. She had met Brett, a slightly overweight man with Curly hair down to his shoulders. He was turning forty, today. Erin also met his wife who approximately fitted the same description as her husband. They were a nice couple much more interested in each other than anyone else here.

Toward the end of the night Erin found herself in a circle of chairs. Six people around her age, mostly from the IT department. Darrin on her left was a junior with a speciality in networking. He hated being called Cable Guy. Sophie, a young Asian Woman, was a Testing Coordinator. Erin was not exactly sure what she did. The other three young men were web designers who, after a fairly intense discussion about the merits of graphic art in web design, had fallen silent and seemed content to listen.  
Erin had recounted a heavily embellished story about her trip to Switzerland and Sophie was regaling the group with tales of her younger siblings, when Brett appeared with a clipboard.  
"Does everyone have a taxi voucher?” he asked  
While the others indicator that they did, Erin looked blankly at him.  
"Taxi Voucher?” she queried  
Brett looked at the clipboard," Yes. You should have been given one when you arrived."  
"Oh. I was with a group that arrived early”  
Brett produced a voucher and handed it to Erin, "This will get you home. It's company policy"  
Looking at the group Brett said, “Thank you for coming to my Birthday Party"  
Brett's interruption had broken the sanctuary of this group of six and the realisation of the lateness of the hour and the respective levels of sobriety caused the group to slowly dispense. As Erin gathered her bag, quickly checking for keys, purse and other essentials, she felt a light touch on her forearm. She looked up to see that Darrin had stayed behind.  
"Um, Erin" He stuttered, "I. Ah, real enjoyed our, the conversation tonight."  
Erin took in his nervous stance and the creeping blush on his cheeks and thought “Oh my god, I’m being hit on". Erin watched with a detached curiosity. She was not interested, NOW, but thought Darrin was nice enough. So she prepared a gentle let down that did not burn the bridges. Anyway, perhaps she was wrong,  
Encouraged by Erin's silence Darrin continued, "SO, I was wondering, um, if you would like to go out some time? With me? Together?"  
Erin smiled, relieved that she was not being picked up for a one night stand.  
Darrin responded to her smile with a hopeful smile of his own.  
"Darrin, I'm really flattened," Erin said," But I'm not looking for any one right now."  
Darrin smile slipped and he struggled to hold it in place.  
"No. Of course", Darrin replied," I was just...."  
Erin put her hand on his shoulder," Just not looking that's all. I found your description on that triple hand hold thingy interesting"  
"Triple handshake?" Darrin queried, wincing as he realised he was correcting Erin.  
Erin appeared not to notice the correction, "Yeah that. So thanks, but I'll pass up your offer"  
Darrin seemed uncertain as how to respond, so Erin turned and headed to the exit.

The taxi returned Erin home and as she open the door to her apartment the odour of old burnt Cheese assaulted her. The source at the smell has her bin and while holding her breath as much as possible, she placed the contents of her bin in a second bag and, then placed that bag in a third bag.  
"I can't afford to eat out every night," Erin thought, "I need to learn how to cook."  
It was not that Erin did not know how to cook at all, but it was not something with which she had a lot of experience. Grandmother was still firmly of the belief that cooking was done by servants and Brian liked three meals, Hamburger, barbequed steak and hotdogs. Erin’s attempts to make these for Brian had always been met with ridicule. Brian had eaten out a lot on her money.  
Erin decided that she would do something about her cooking repertoire this weekend.


	6. In search of a cooking book.

Saturday morning once again found Erin standing in front of the DORA LEE COMMUNITY LIBRARY  
I'm spending all my weekends at a library, Erin thought as she entered the library she had helped create. Little had changed in a week but as Erin had not paid much attention to where the actual books went, her search was unguided.  
"Can I help you?”. Erin jumped at the sound of a young man’s voice.  
The face Erin saw peering over a bookcase was young, keen, pale and freckled. The crewcut hair style and thick rimmed glasses reinforced the studious image.  
_He may as well be wearing a sign saying University Nerd_ , Erin thought.  
He stepped out from between the stacks and she saw he was wearing a tee shirt bearing the inscription “University Nerd”.

Erin giggled and said, “I’m looking for a book.”  
The young man struck a pose of exaggerated contemplation, "Books? Books?" He shook his head," We might have one out the back."  
Erin laughed and the young man said, "Yes we have books. Any particular book?"  
"A cooking book.", Erin answered.  
Smiling the young man said, "We have quite a selection. I'd say it is our largest single section. Broken into cooking style, ingredients and nationalities. I'm Ernest."  
“You certainly seem it.", Erin agreed.  
"No. " The young man corrected. "My name is Ernest. But thank you anyway."  
"Oh". Erin blushed. "Sorry. I'm Erin."  
"Erin on the side of caution?” Ernest joked.  
Erin poked out her tongue. “I have never heard that one before.”

Ernest said, “Very well." Ernest looked carefully at Erin and said "Erin, Young Woman, red curly hair.” His eyes widened, "You are the Ladder Girl!"  
Erin laughed, "Yes. I guess that's me."  
Ernest bowed,"' What an honour to be in the presence of the Legends of the Library, M'Lady."  
Erin blushed, "Oh I'd hardly call it that."  
Ernest grinned at her discomfort and in mock awe asked "Is it true that you built the catalogue computer from its component parts and fairy dust?"  
Erin was enjoying the banter, "No. I used unicorn dust."  
Ernest stroked his chin. "Yes, Yes, of Course. That makes much more sense."  
Erin looked Ernst up and down," Performing arts major?"  
"I am flattered, but no, Library major. My acting skill derive from a small local Theatre group and…” Ernest blushed and looked away.  
"Go on ", Erin probed "and..."  
"It is a bit embarrassing."  
Erin remembered her naive trip into a gay bar. "I won’t laugh."  
"Medieval re-enactment." Ernest admitted.  
"You dress up in old clothes and hit people with swords?" Erin asked.  
Ernest expression grew pained. "There is a lot more to it than that, but basically yes."  
Erin replied, "It sounds like fun."  
"Well the people who do it think so". Ernest admitted. "Here is Cooking."

Erin was overwhelmed by the number of cooking books.  
Seeing Erin's hesitation, Ernest offered a book to her. “This is considered to be the corner stone of basic cooking by impoverished students everywhere."  
Erin took the book and flicked through it. It did seem basic. Just what she was looking for. While Erin perused the book Ernest had found a much larger hard-cover book. "If that is too basic for you, perhaps this one?"  
Erin smiled and shook her head, “No I think this one will be fine."  
"You really don't know how to cook!" Ernest asked curiously.  
Erin sensed no criticism his enquiry,"I want to do it better.”  
"Too busy collecting unicorn dust, I imagine." Ernest observed.  
Erin giggled, "Something like that."  
Ernest took the small book from Erin, "Would you like to borrow other books? We have a limit of five."

"May I use the computer?" Erin asked.  
"It is only supposed to be used by Staff and I don’t think you are on the list. But who am I to refuse the Ladder Girl?"  
Erin went to the computer and logged into her email. One hundred and twenty three unread emails. Erin quickly discarded most of the emails. She read the email from her Divorce lawyer carefully. Brian’s attempt to refute the pre-nup had collapsed. The asset sales were almost complete. She could use the money. An email from her mother covered the same topics as their most recent phone conversation. The last fifteen emails were from the dating site. Email containing pictures of body parts were immediately deleted, as were those with a generic greeting.  
Three emails remained.  
Those from Boston Angel, Good Time Guy and Restaurant Lover. She did want to date again, but the chance someone might buy her a decent meal had some appeal. Erin worried going on a date just for the food was only a short step from the oldest profession, on the other hand if she looked like she was dating perhaps people would stop pressuring her about being single. She liked being single, but she did not like getting hassled about it. Erin looked of the emails again. She could pay for half the meal and maybe she would be taken to places she would not find on her own. Erin opened the first at the remaining emails.

_Dear E-girl_   
_Join me for dinner at a well-known restaurant on a Saturday_   
_We can let the night develop at its own pace._   
_Reply with your acceptance and I will send you the details_   
_Restaurant Lover._

Erin thought the email sounded non-threatening. Should she reply? Read them all first? Pick the best one? She opened the second email.

 _E-girl_  
_Sounds like you are new to Boston. I know the best bars. I am a member of the best clubs. Very exclusive._  
 _If you want to see the Best of Boston, Write me and I will show you the best time in Boston._  
 _Good Time Guy_

Well someone is impressed with themselves, Erin thought. She did miss the Country Clubs to which the Barksdale name had granted her access. Maybe this is a way to see parts at Boston she would never see as she no longer used her family name as leverage. Erin opened the last email.

 _Dearest E-Girl_  
_I have a good feeling about meeting you._  
 _It feels right_  
 _Dine with me and see if you feel it too._  
 _Boston Angel_

Erin felt a thrill. Three Men asking after her. It made her feel powerful and wanted. Riding the emotional high Erin wrote the same response to all three emails.

 _Your offer sounds interesting_  
_I am available Most Saturday evenings_  
 _Contact me with details and I'll see what I can do_

_E-Girl._

Erin closed her email as Ernest approached.  
Ernest smiled, "Here is your book. You have it for two weeks. Apparently you are on the staff list so you get an extra week."  
"Thank you", Erin said turning to smile up at Ernest.  
Whatever Ernest was about to say was lost to the arrival of a young mother and two pre-school boys, both of whom bolted in different directions. "I'm here most Saturday mornings", he said over his shoulder as he intercepted a child determined to climb a book shelf ladder.  
Erin quickly left the library before her ladder skills were called on again.

After a detour via a Thrift store and a grocery store Erin was home. Consulting the borrowed cook book Erin made a spectacular mess in her tiny kitchen. Ignoring the flour mill explosion her kitchen now resembled, Erin sat down to eat the first solo cooked pancake she had ever made. It was good, with maple syrup it would have been better.


	7. Skirting the issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions on diet and exercise

Erin luxuriated in her warm bed. Revelling in the expanse of her bed she laughed “This is my bed. There are many beds like it, but this is my bed". Erin could not remember the rest of the original saying.

She rolled out of bed and into her waiting slippers. Erin thought the morning was warmer as she crossed the short distance to the kitchen.

Today she would treat herself to a cooked breakfast before work. The experience of the previous day’s pancakes resulted in an acceptable stack.

Sunday had been washday, so Monday was choice of clothes day.

Her favourite shirt, the emerald green set off her hair, the grey wool pants that were warm, classy and professional.

And tight.

Erin made a second unsuccessful attempt to close the zipper. She stared accusingly at the pants “OH come on! Three pancake breakfasts do not a fatty make" 

Maybe they have shrunk in the wash, Erin wondered

Erin striped off her shirt and the offending pants and dressed only in bra, briefs, and fluffy slippers studied her reflection in the full length mirror she had brought from Virginia.

Her bright red hair flowed in curls over her shoulders. Not tall. Erin turned to consider her profile. What could be ignored in full frontal could not be denied from the side. Twisting and turning to view herself from every possible angle the dreadful truth was revealed. The lithe young girl who had married in a form fitting bodice had packed on more than a few pounds.

Sucking her tummy in provided a profile that was acceptable but unsustainable. Pushing her tummy out made her look pregnant.

Great! Now she was depressed and running late.

Putting the emerald shirt back on, adding the skirt that she regrated buying, leggings, boots, indoor jacket, outdoor jacket, bag, keys, phone, out.

 

Erin had a miserable day. She was cold. She did not like this skirt. It seemed to ride up excessively. Worst of all Erin had encountered Alice Wintergrove who had grudgingly complemented on her “improved attire". If Alice Wintergrove liked the skirt, Erin now officially loathed it.

 

The day was over. The office was quiet. Crumbs from lunch still littered the desk. Erin reworked the last letter for the third time.

"Hard day at the office?"

The voice behind her caused Erin to jump, striking her knee on the desk.

Michelle reached for Erin. “Sorry, Sorry. Are you OK?"

Erin looked up, her eyes wet, "Do I look ok?"

"Oh, Erin, honey. No. That's why I came over.”

Erin shook her head. "No, everything is fine."

Michelle snorted. "I bet you lie about other things too."

Erin slumped in her chair. "I'm always cold. I don't know what I am doing. I don't know anybody. I don't have any friends. I am living hand to mouth and now my clothes don't fit.”

Michelle raised her hands before her in surrender. "Whoa, Whoa. Should be taking notes?"

Erin pouted.

Michelle sat on the desk. "First and foremost. You are doing fine. Here anyway. People are impressed and yes it has been cold. This is Boston, we know cold! It will warm up I promise. Didn't you say that you came to Boston because you had a sister up here?"

"Cousin," Erin corrected, “and she is busy studying."

Michelle frowned and asked "What was next?"

Erin sniffed," I've got no money and my favourite pants don't fit any more."

Erin felt foolish. She sounded like she was six years old.

Michelle jumped off the desk, "Ok. Stand up."

"What?"

Michelle gestured "Get up, Chubs.”

Erin was shocked. “I thought you were my friend.", she said as she stood.

Michelle looked serious, "Erin. I am your friend. I really like you and I am taking you seriously."

Erin held her arms out. “Shall I strip?" Erin joked

"Not that type of friend. So spin."

Erin turned. “Well? How bad is it?"

"Oh yes. You poor thing. You are young, healthy, a natural red head, with a job and her own place. I don't know how you stand it."

Erin looked at Michelle embarrassed, ''I guess I do sound a bit..."

"Spoilt? Entitled? Precious?" Michelle offered helpfully.

Erin studied her toes, "Yeah, I guess I sound dreadful."

''No.", Michelle replied, “You sound like you are having a bad day. I'm just trying to give you some perspective."

Erin suddenly had a dreadful realisation.

"How did you know I'm a natural redhead?” Erin asked, terrified that she had been flashing the office.

Michelle chuckled, “Eyebrows. I don’t know anyone who dyes their eyebrows."

Erin sighed with relief

"Why'", Michelle asked, "Did you forget to wear underwear?” Michelle covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh NO! You did forget.”

"I did not", Erin said

Michelle chortled, "Commando Erin reporting for duty.”

Erin stamped her foot, "I am fully dressed. Thank you very much"

"But you are not sulking any more, are you?”

"No"

"Erin. You are doing Ok at work. You have friends, I'm one at them. Try those pants tomorrow and then come and tell me if they still don't fit."

Erin smiled "Thanks."

"Now go home before we get locked in,"

 

It was during her trip home that Erin realised "I have friends. Me. Not my name. Not my family money. Me!"

'

The following morning the pants fitted.

 

Erin sat on her bed and picked up her phone for the fourth time. Her internal debate had no new arguments and not calling someone because you were embarrassed that you had not called them before was …”

Erin punched in the number, "Hello? Jane?"

"Jane Lane. Artist extraordinaire. Who calls upon my magnificence?"

"Erin. This is Erin."

"Erin. Good to hear from you. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Erin hesitated. Jane seemed happy to hear from her, but what if...?

"Any time you’re ready.” Jane prompted.

“Oh right, I was wondering if you and Daria wanted to come over for dinner."

"Free food?" Jane remarked "You make a convincing argument."

Erin listened as Jane called out, "Daria? Are you going to pass up free food? It’s Erin."

Erin could not make the reply.

Jane called out again, “No. Erin is offering the food, not being the food”

“And people say the Lanes are a strange family”, Jane muttered.

"We are on. Can it be Thursday? It is the only night we both have off. Karen can't make it."

Erin had forgotten about Karen, “Thursday will be perfect.” Erin confirmed.

"Six thirty?" Jane asked.

"Can you make it seven?" Erin countered

"Seven it is" Jane acknowledged.

 

Six Thirty PM, Thursday Evening.

Erin wondered if it was too late to immigrate to Canada. She checked the courses again. The stew smelled ok, but she thought it looked like bubbling pet food. The golden, sodden mess in the fry pan would never become the promised cornbread. How can something be both wet and burning? The store bought bread was still a single block of ice. The glare Erin gave it should have melted it instantly. The local pizza store only delivered Fridays and weekends.

 

Erin took a deep breath. It would be alright. She had time to fix it.

There was a knock on the door. Erin stared in horrified disbelief.

The knock was repeated.

''I told you it was Seven pm", a droll woman's voice noted from beyond the door.

"Couldn’t be", a brighter voice replied, "Because then I would be early and a Lane is never early."

"Bet you a twenty." the first voice challenged

"Done"

Erin opened the door.

Jane looked at Erin's apron and said, "So now we are sure where you live, we will be back in half an hour.”

"Pay up, Lane", Dana said.

Erin waved them in., "Come in things will be ready in just a moment."

Jane strode in, "Daria brought wine so just point us at the pizza."

Erin's heart sank. With less authority than she intended she said, "I can get you Pizza if that's what you want."

Daria smacked her best friend across the back of her head.

Jane complained.''What was that for?” Turning to confront Daria, Jane finally saw the chaos in the kitchen.

"Oh", Jane said weakly, "you cooked for us".

Erin said "I can go out and get pizza if …"

"Jane is currently on a runner’s diet ", Dania interrupted," made up entirely of her own feet."

Erin giggled. Jane still looked mortified and drew breath.

Daria said, "Don't speak Jane. Let the illusion of your grace and charm linger a small while longer"

 

Jane scraped the bottom of her empty bowl. "Is there any more?” she asked hopefully.

Erin shook her head but could not stop smiling. Dinner had been a success.

The stew was great. The Cornbread was a total loss and was now hiding at the bottom of the bin. Daria had shown her a trick learned from her university paper using both the microwave and toaster to rescue the bread. Jane had eaten everything put in front at her.

''Sorry Jane. That was the last", Erin said

Daria smirked, “Poor Jane. Only four helpings. Are you supposed to be carrying that extra weight on your run?"

Jarred laughed “Of course what do you think powers this machine?"

"When is your race?” Erin asked

"Monday", Jane said casually as she mopped her bowl with the last at the bread.

"Monday? This Monday?” Erin asked shocked. "Did I feed you the wrong thing?"

Erin found tears pricking at her eyes

Both Daria and Jane frowned.

"Looks like Erin. Sounds like Stacy", Jane said.

Daria studied Erin. "Look, I know our family is not exactly what you would call close and I probably didn't say more than a dozen words to you at your wedding, but I thought you had a little more backbone".

Jane snorted in surprise "Wow Daria. You still have that old Morgendorffer charm."

Erin rubbed her face," You are right Daria. Back then I knew where I fitted in. I may not have always liked it, but I knew who I was. I gave all that up when I came here. Now I feel lost, drifting. I can’t go back.  I just want to be happy but I don't know how. "

Daria held Erin's gaze for a long moment, ''I'm sorry, for a moment then I thought you were seeking my advice on happiness."

"It could be worse.” Jane quipped, “She could be asking you for relationship guidance."

Jane leaned over to Erin and stage whispered," Kiss your best friend's Boyfriend. It's the Daria way."

"Once", Daria objected, "That happened Once"

"You only kissed Tom once?" Jane sounded shocked, "No wonder he always looked mopey"

Daria looked irritated, "Can we skip the ancient history?", she looked at Erin," It's going to take time. You are still the courageous person who moved away from a bad situation to make a new life. Remember that".

Erin smiled, “That started out angry."

"You stood up to your Grandmother. That's something," Jane added

''Yes I did." Erin said

Daria said" And you are not entirely alone. You do have us. Friend and family"

Erin looked at each at the young women. "Thank You. Daria, I wish you were my sister not my cousin."

Jane and Daria looked at each other and laughed while Erin looked confused.

 

Friday morning before she could reach her desk, Erin was intercepted by Zoe,

"Erin. What Tee Shirt size do you wear?"

"What? Small"

Erin hoped that was still true.

Zoe thrust a tee shirt into Erin's hands, “Try this on"

Erin dumped her belongings on her desk and went to the restroom to change. She found Michelle and Monica doing the same.

"What's this about? “, Erin asked.

Michelle answered, “Boston Products has sponsored a hydration station for the Boston Marathon. We are Bottle Babes”

“Speak for yourself”, Monica said as she unbuttoned her shirt, “I’m nobody’s babe and you are a Bottle Bimbo”

Asha entered the restroom, to shirt in hand, ''It looks like we are doing the marathon thing again". It was obvious Asha was not impressed.

"You don't like running?” Erin asked

"We are intelligent, capable, professional women but the organisation just treats us like me are a pair of tits to hang a logo on,” Asha said

Erin had her tee shirt on, snug was how it fitted, snug was not how she felt.

Erin asked," We have to go outside in this?"

Asha continued "I know. It's offensive. Why not just strip us naked and paint a sign on us."

Erin said "No. I mean, it’s going to be cold,"

Michelle said “Just wear something under it"

Erin sighed "I'm not sure that I have anything"

They all looked at her

Michelle said "All Right. New plan. Tell Zoe you need a bigger tee shirt. On Race Day you come to my house early and we will see you dressed properly."

Erin was move by Michelle's generosity. "Thank you"

Michelle clapped her hands in glee “I’m going to dress you up like my new best dolly."

Monica added "Well that went from compassionate to creepy."

"I'll be there", Erin said," But no pigtails"

 


	8. A Date from the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day at the Library, with coffee and missed references.

Erin leaped out of bed. Today was going to be a good day.

Racing through her morning routine she was outside before the flower shop had fully opened. She waved at the florist as he was setting up and he gave her a flower. Erin took a few moments to savour its scent.

She passed an attractive coffee shop decorated in a Mediterranean style, just as they took the croissants out of the oven. The combined smell at fresh bread and fresh ground coffee was too alluring to pass by.

Erin bought two croissants and a large coffee and she was able to sit at the table by the window.

Erin sipped her coffee, nibbled her croissant and watched the world go by as she idly traced random patterns between the mosaic tiles on her table. Life was good.

Students of the nearby university made up the bulk of pedestrian population. Most on their way out, in bright animated groups. A few furtive singles attempting to return to their dorms before their absence was noted. Erin felt the entire world had been laid out for her enjoyment.

Halfway through her second croissant, Erin recognised a face. Ernest the librarian was heading in her direction. He had not seen her yet so it appeared the cafe was his destination. As he got closer he recognised Erin and awarded her a pleased smile and a wave. He joined her as soon as his order was ready. Erin gestured to the other chair as he approached and he sat at her table.

"Pleasant day", Erin noted.

"Made ever more so by thy presence milady" Ernest replied before blushing and lowering his head into his hands.

"Sorry", he said "We spent most at last night adlibbing Shakespeare."

Erin waved his apology away, "I don't mind. It sounded nice".

"The floral nature of my utterance should not be construed for insincerity"

"Ernest. What you say sounds beautiful, but it is too hard this early in the morning. Can you use simple words? "

"Oh. Pleased to meet you?"

"Better. And thank you. Nice to see you too,"

Ernest looked around, “Is this your local?" he asked Erin.

Erin smiled as she replied, "It is not my closest cafe, but I think it will became my favourite. Why? Are you trying to work out where I live?"

"Nothing so crass" Ernest replied, "Trying to make conversation."

Erin giggled, “I’m teasing you”

Ernest lifted his coffee in salute, "Anyway. I have a much more subtle way of finding out your address." He raised an eyebrow.

"What way is that?" asked Erin, now intrigued.

Ernest smirked and looked off into the distance "Are you sure you want me to tell you? Once you know, there is no way to un-know."

"Yes tell me. Please."

Ernest sighed dramatically, "Very well." He leaned forward. Erin leaned in to hear him.

"I'd wait till you told me.", he whispered.

Erin sat back surprised," What if I did not tell you?"

"If you did not want me to know, I would not want to know."

"What if I wanted to be chased?”

"Then you would be too much hard work."

Erin could not decide if she was amused or offended, "Aren't I worth the hard work?”

"Possibly", Ernest admitted," But I am a full time student, with two time consuming hobbies, a volunteering job and I have a limited budget. If you wish to be chased I shall leave that task to someone better resourced to pursue you."

He finished his coffee, "Do you wish to be chased?"

"What if I say yes?" Erin asked.

Ernest stood up. "Then I would give you a ten second head start and race you to the library."

Erin also stood. “Do you think you could catch me?"

Ernest sighed," Now you want to be caught as well as chased? So many demands. I think I'd better let you escape."

Erin said "Instead why don't we just walk to the library?"

"Were you actually going that way?" Ernest asked

"I am now", Erin replied.

 

Erin looked up at the building as Ernest struggled with the key.

"Who was Dora Lee?" Erin asked.

Ernest, finally having convinced the door to open replied, "Other than the Sponsor of this library, I really how no idea. There is no plaque or framed letter, just the name above the door."

"So what does bring you to this abode of literacy” Ernst asked, "I am insufficiently vain to believe it was my wit and charm that lured you here"

"I was hoping to use the computer again."

"It is where it was. Don't fill up the disk with cat pictures"

"Cat pictures?” Erin asked

Ernest continued to set up the front desk, “Yes cat pictures, pictures of cats. Once you download cat pictures, forever will it control your destiny.”

Ernest watched Erin, obviously expecting a response.

"I know about cat pictures.” Erin said.

Ernest's disappointed expression indicated this was not the response he was looking for.

Erin shrugged and started the computer.

 

Erin scanned her email. There!

A reply to her earlier dating response, Restaurant Lover had responded.

Her pulse raced with excitement.

 

_E-girl_

_This Saturday night, join me for dinner at the Palm Grove. It is a restaurant I am sure you will love._

_Be there at 8pm and I will see you have a night to remember._

_My name is Wayne._

_Restaurant Lover._

 

Erin checked the date at the email. The invitation was for tonight.

She typed a quick reply

 

_Wayne_

_This is Erin._

_Thank you for your invitation._

_I will be at the Palm Grove restaurant tonight at 8 pm._

_Kind Regards_

_E-Girl_

 

Erin bit her lip as she sent the reply. What would she wear?

 

 


	9. A Bad Date to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin Tries the dating scene.

Erin checked her watch again. Twenty minutes, was twenty minutes too long to wait? She checked the name at the restaurant, again. Yes, she was in the right places, at the right time. So he was late.

Still the restaurant looked nice from the outside and she was hungry, so why waste the night? Just as she turned to enter the restaurant she heard her name being called.

“Erin, Erin".

A stocky, slightly chubby, man panted to a stop in front of her. “I am so sorry. Traffic was much worse than expected and where I usually park was closed.” He looked closely at Erin, “It is Erin, isn't it?"

Erin smiled and decided to find the hectic arrival as a sign of enthusiasm, "Yes' I'm Erin. Are you Wayne?"

Wayne looked angry for a fleeting moment. “Yes I am Wayne. Who else were you meeting tonight?"

"No one. Only you." Erin replied looking puzzled

Wayne's face lit up with a broad smile. "Then let's go to our table before they give it to someone else. “  He led Erin into the restaurant.

The restaurant was laid out with circular tables on a split level floor plan. Only a few tables were occupied. The low lighting made it feel intimate and the aroma from the kitchen was encouraging.  Whoever had been responsible for the decor could not decide on a theme. Mexican sombreros clashed for dominance against Japanese prints and Buddhist statuary with no clear winner. Wayne held the chair for her, before seating himself. As she reviewed the menu Wayne ordered wine. The menu shared the décor’s eclectic flavour with meals from around the world. Wayne ordered without consulting the menu. Erin felt rushed but did not want to cause a scene so she ordered Thai fish cakes, Chicken schnitzel and a salad.

"Are you going to eat all at that?” Wayne asked

Erin was stunned. Had she ordered too much? She remembered the enormous portions at the Italian restaurant that Margie and Rosa had taken her to. Perhaps Boston serves were large.

"I'll just have the chicken ", Erin said.

The water took their order his face expressionless.

Wayne poured wine for Erin, and leaned forward, “So tell me about yourself.”

 

Erin talked about moving to Boston and her work.  To her surprise she left out major parts of her life story. It just did not seem right to mention them. Wayne kept her glass topped up. Every time she tried to steer the conversation to Wayne, he would answer a few general questions before guiding the conversation back. He said she was far more interesting. Erin had lost track of how many times her glass had been refiled.

 

Erin was about to question the meal’s delay when a female staff member hastily made her way to their table.

“Erin Chambers?” the staff member asked.

“What’s this all about?” Wayne demanded.

The staff member ignored Wayne, “Erin, there is a phone call for you on the Manager’s phone. Could you come and take it please?”

Erin was confused. She had not told anyone that she was coming here. Rising from her chair she turned to Wayne, “I’m sure this won’t take long”

“I should hope not” he replied curtly. Wayne’s tone softened, “I want to spend time with you.”

Erin followed the staff member to a doorway on the opposite side of the restaurant. When she entered the Managers office Erin’s confusion increased. There was a young man in a cook’s uniform and the phone was soundly in its cradle.

“What’s going on?” Erin demanded.

“Hush!” the man commanded, “or you’ll get us all in trouble.”

Before Erin could respond, a woman’s voice screeched from within the restaurant with a tone reminiscent of broken glass being dragged over rusted metal.

“WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS THAT HOME WRECKING JAILBAIT?”

The cook turned to Erin, “His Wife.” He explained. “He has done this three times this year. We keep banning him, but he books under a different name.”

“Wife?” whimpered Erin, “He has a wife?”

The sound of breaking crockery punctuated the woman’s rant, “FIVE YEARS OF SLAVERY, BREAKING MY BACK COOKING AND WASHING AND CLEANING YOUR HOUSE AND THIS HOW I AM REPAYED?”

Wayne’s voice could be faintly heard, “But dear. I don’t know what you mean.”

“THE BEST YEARS OF MY LIFE, SQUANDERED AT YOUR BECK AND CALL. YOU, YOU, MAN!”

The cook turned to the female wait staff, “You call the police and I’ll get her out of here.”

To Erin he said, “Follow me” and led through a different door into the kitchen.

Here Erin was greeted with various looks of sympathy as she negotiated the maze of kitchen benches. Guided through yet another door Erin found herself in a back alley.

The cook pressed a foil lined paper bag and her coat into Erin’s hands, “It’s not safe for you to stay. If you head up that way you will find a taxi.”

Erin made her way up the hill, the paper bag clutched in her hand. She was shivering despite her coat as she made her way through the evening crowd.  Everyone seemed to be enjoying Saturday night. Everyone but Erin.

 

Taking the “T” home to save her limited funds and as the shock wore off Erin cried quietly all the way to her stop.

She did not even examine the contents of the gift bag till she was home. Within she found Thai fish cakes, Chicken schnitzel and a salad. Erin could not face them and placed them in the fridge. Instead she showered, scrubbing and scrubbing trying to wash away the memory.

At two o’clock in the morning when her hunger woke her, Erin laughed as she dined on cold take away. She though she got off lightly, and she had still been fed. She hoped it was at Wayne’s expense.

She decided to talk to Anne. Anne knew how to do this.

 


	10. Boston Marathon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not everyone at the Boston Marathon is running.

In Erin's opinion it was ridiculously early as she parked her car in front of Michelle's house. She checked the address again and wondered how Michelle owned a house in the outer suburbs of Boston. She dragged her suitcase to the front door and rang the doorbell. Michelle opened the door, glanced at the suitcase and said "I thought you were coming over to dress, not move in. Never mind. You can have the bedroom on the left, rent is due Fridays."

Erin followed Michelle in. "This is just a few clothes. The bag does not have to be full."

Michelle pointed to the makings of breakfast on the dining room table. "Muesli in the box, milk in the jug, coffee in the pot. Help yourself”

Erin followed Michelle's lead and did just that.

"You have this all to yourself?" Erin asked, gesturing vaguely to the house.

Michelle answered “This is my parent's house, but they live in Spain. My younger sister is supposed to live here but she spends most of her time at the university dorms. So I only see her when her washing piles up. It’s her clothes I'll be dressing you in. She is more your size".

Erin looked up from her coffee," Spain?"

Michelle looked at a photo on the coffee table of an older couple as she replied "They fell in love with it on their honeymoon, so as soon as they retired, ZOOM, they were gone."

Erin tried to hide her surprise, “I did not know. You don't talk much about your private life at work"

"True", Michelle acknowledged "I like to keep them separate. Your presence here is an exception to that rule."

"Why are you doing this then?" Erin asked.

"Because you are such a lost kitten”, Michelle replied, "All brave and struggling. I like you and I don't think you'll sell me out."

Thinking at the women at 'G-bar' Erin asked, "Do you have any great secret I'm supposed to hide?"

"Nothing really exciting, but I don't think I'd be treated as an equal if people knew I basically owned a house instead of being a struggling office worker."

"I think you underestimate them", Erin said "But your secret’s safe with me"

Standing up Michelle said" Good, Now let's get you dressed."

Erin scooped the last few mouthfuls of muesli from her bowl and left her coffee on the table. Leaving the way down the hall, Michelle said over her shoulder," We will strip you down and then layer you up properly.

Erin was grateful the house was warm as she stood in her underwear as the subject of Michelle's amazed stare. "To clarify", Michelle said, her tone incredulous," You have come to Boston. In winter. A cold winter at that. With no thermal underware? Have I understood that correctly?"

Erin looked at the floor. "Yes, that’s correct."

"No wonder you have been cold. I am going to change your life."

 

Forty five minutes later after many changes at clothes Erin stood in front of the mirror satisfied with both her appearance and her comfort.

Michelle's grinning reflection asked "Do I work miracles or do I work miracles?”

''You work miracles, Michelle"

Erin turned to look at Michelle rather than at Michelle’s reflection, "May I ask you a personal question?”

Michelle's shoulders tightened, "You can ask...."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"N..No"

"Do you have a...” Erin paused, "a girlfriend"

Michelle relaxed slightly, "Why? Are you angling for the position?”

Erin took a step back" No, that's not what I meant"

Michelle laughed.

"Relax Erin. I like the boys" Michelle sighed and looked out the window, "I have, or had, a boyfriend. We are taking some time apart at the moment." Michelle sat on the bed." Who am I kidding. We have broken up. This happened just before you arrived in Boston. We wanted different things from the relationship."

Erin said "Sorry I.... Did he want you to....? "

"He wanted to get married. He even proposed. I was happy with how things were. I said no. Now neither of us have what we want. "

"If it helps," Erin said" I said Yes, when I should have said No, and that did not work out any better for me."

Michelle smiled sadly, "That does help. Thanks"

Erin checked her watch, a process that now required moving three layers of clothing, "If we are going to get to work on time, we need to move"

"Not to work" Michelle corrected," We go straight to the volunteer muster, and we get a bus from there. It is still time to go"

Erin reorganised the Energy Packs and stacks of cups on the table and bounced on her toes in excitement as she looked down the road. She and Michelle had met Asha, Monica and Anne and they had been bussed to their station. Everyone was dressed in their Corporate Tee-shirt and Asha had accessorised with a foul temper.

Erin was in a great mood. She was out. She was being paid to have the perfect view. She was with her friends. Best of all, she was warm.

She looked back at her friends, "Do you think the runners will be here soon?" She asked for the fifth time.

Monica shook her head, "We are half way along the Course. They would be breaking the record it they were here yet."

Anne checked her watch and said" They would be breaking the laws of physics. They haven’t started."

Erin laughed and with her arms held wide spun around and sang "I'm warm, I'm warm, I'm warm''

Asha looked at Michelle, "What did you feed her this morning."

Erin rearranged the Energy packs again and sampled a Gater-aid cup, “Did I tell you my friend is running today?" Behind her Erin's friends rolled their eyes.

By the time the first runners appeared their station had been surrounded by a shifting fence of spectators.  Erin's manic bouncing had stopped, her excitement however was undiminished.

"Here they come. Here they come" she called.

The crowd leant forward as the leaders ran up the slight incline. Erin held out a pack as the first group passed her. Optimistically looking for Jane, Erin did not see who snatched the pack from her grasp. As each group at runners came into view, Erin would search for Jane, hand out packs or cups, and generally cheer as the runners passed her.

 

Jane ran. She was past the stage where the run was easy. She was not at the stage when every step was an exercise of will. She had loosely attached herself to the back of a group and her training carried her along. The climb before them was long. It was going to be a test. Jane knew she would pass, she wondered who wouldn't.

Jane saw a water station half way up the climb, they had been scattered along the run and Jane did not need it now. The small group of runners she had been pacing were starting to falter, to slow up with them would mess with her rhythm, to push past them would use reserves she would need later. Jane decided to hold her pace and go around them. Up ahead she saw a runner collapse.

Erin had stepped out with a cup in each hand when the man passing her collapsed. He staggered a few steps before falling to the road. Erin dropped her cups and raced to his side realising that she knew no first aid and could not remember anything that had been discussed at the Volunteer meeting. She knelt beside the fallen man. _Breathing, breathing was good. Was he breathing?_ Erin lowered her ear to the man's mouth and got an earful at shallow panting.

Jane focused on her pace as she ran past those gathering around the fallen runner. There were a group of people in logoed shirts attending him. Seeing one of the woman bent over him Jane thought _The lengths some guys will go to get a kiss from a Red head._  Giving it no further thought Jane ran on.

"He is breathing", Erin called.

Asha was beside Erin, rolling the man onto his side. "You are doing good Erin” Asha said.

Erin heard a disturbance behind her and turner to see two medics carrying a stretcher.

"Okay. Make some space." one medic said

Erin stepped back as the fallen man was bundler onto the stretcher and taken away. "Do you think he’ll be all right?" Erin asked

Asha put a hand on Erin's shoulder, "Yes, He'll be fine.''

The rest of the race held no further medical emergencies for Erin and she never saw Jane.

The last of the stranglers had passed. The crowd had dispersed. Erin's enthusiasm had long departed.

"They are going to send a bus for us. Aren’t they?" Erin asked

''I hope so "Asha replied, "I have no desire to eat energy gel for dinner."

All of the women shuddered at the thought. They had tried one pack out at curiosity and decided that marathon runners must enjoy suffering.

"I never saw Jane" Erin observed sadly to Anne as they climbed into the bus.

Ann yawned and then said "There were fifteen thousand runners. She probably went past when your back was turned. "

"Or when you went to the toilet." Michelle added, "You took so long we were going to call missing persons."

Erin glared at Michelle, "There are a lot more layers than I'm used to."

"What?" Anne asked.

"Her first time in thermals", Michelle explained.

"You are joking. Right?", Anne asked.

Michelle shook her head and Anne looked at Erin in amazement.

Erin humour was evaporating under the teasing so her response was sharper than she meant.

"Well it's not like there is a sign at the state border saying Welcome to Massachusetts. Wear extra underwear.”

Michelle raised her hands in surrender. "All right. Look. Keep what I loaned you until my sister asks about it." Erin nodded.

Standing in the emptying car park Monica asked, "Are we going to dinner?".

They considered the question in silence.

Asha was the first to answer "Not me. I'm too damn tired"

The others nodded and with parting waves each headed to their cars.

That night Erin slept soundly.


	11. Dating Advice

Erin arrived at Boston Products at her usual time so she was surprised to see Mr Stojoski already in his office. Going to his door she saw her flustered boss racing back and forward from desk to book shelf and back again. Seeing her he thrust a brochure at her.

"I only found out about this conference last night and it's on tomorrow", her boss said "make it happen. I'll want you there". With that he turned his back on Erin.

Erin had no difficulty arranging two seats at the Conference, and was able to get Mr Stojoski to sign Purchase Order before he left for the lunch meeting he told her would last the rest of the day.

Erin approached Anne as she ended her phone call by slamming the receiver back in to the cradle.

"How am I supposed to calculate last month’s demand trends when I only have half the data?” Anne demanded of the innocent phone. Anne looked up at Erin.  "Well?" Anne posed to Erin with the same tone that the phone had endured, "Do you have a simple question I can answer?”

Erin was taken aback by the aggressive tone from her usually cheerful friend. Erin said “Look. I can come back later''

Anne sighed and beckoned Erin closer, “Sorry Erin. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. What can I do for you?"

Erin said, "I was wondering if you could give me some advice?" Erin's voice trailed off turning the statement in to a question.

Anne looked uncertain as she replied, ''I can try. I don't know much about your job"

Erin lend closer and whispered," Dating advice."

Anne beamed, "You have come to the right place. Have you had lunch?"

Erin shook her head.

"Good", Anne said," Let's do lunch"

Erin considered her packed sandwiches and the barren state at her finances. Anne quickly added," I'll pay. My treat."

"Okay" Erin acquiesced

"That is your first lesson", Ann said as she picked up her bag, "Always let them pay".

 

Erin and Anne sat across from each other, enough of their lunch consumed to put the pangs of hunger at bay.

Anne asked "What do you want to know?"

Erin shrugged, "I don't know where to start. How do you protect yourself?"

Anne's visage darkened, "What happened?"

Erin spent the next fifteen minutes outlining her disastrous first date. Anne took notes.

When Erin had finished, Anne asked "Are you ok?"

Erin smiled slightly, "Yes. I am now."

Anne sighed in relief and looked at her notes," You made some mistakes. A few of which were dangerous."

Erin's eyes widened, "Dangerous?”

Anne nodded. "The biggest of the bad, you didn't even mention. You did not tell anyone when you were going.”

"Who would I tell? Am I supposed to be home before curfew?” Erin asked.

Ann snapped, "This is important. I'm trying to keep you alive!"

Erin had drawn breath to rebut. She said nothing,

Anne continued, “You can tell me. You can tell Michelle. Your cousin, anybody, and yes, you call in."

Erin nodded

Anne sighed again and picked at her food, "Sorry. That was a bit strong. Dating is fun and exciting. But it has its risks and occasionally, very occasionally, people die."

Erin was shocked. She had basically heard about the dangers, but she had never thought about them applying to her.

Erin asked, "So what should I do?"

Anne smiled at Erin, "I'll write you some instructions"

Erin giggled, “Standard operating procedures?"

"Something like that. Number one is telling someone where you’re going. Better is taking someone with you. Second is choosing a public place. Better again is choose a place you know. With escape routes you know."

Over lunch Erin and Anna hammered out "The Rules of Dating". Anne paid for lunch and then guided Erin away from work.

Erin asked, “When are we going?"

Anne replied “Shopping obviously"

"What for?"

Anne stopped, turned to face Erin and asked "Do you have condoms?"

Erin blushed so deeply that her faced almost matched her hair. "I... what?''.  Erin stumbled for a coherent response.

Anne said “I thought not and you won’t be able to buy then when the mood is upon you."

"Aren't the men supposed to provide …" Erin hesitated, "them? Any way I have no intention of going that far."

"One: only trust your own. They have expiry dates you know. Two: when the mood takes you, your intention means squat."

Anne playfully pushed Erin into the Drug Store "Go and buy a box of Mouse Raincoats."

After having amused the Drug Store staff with her awkwardness, Erin re-emerged into Anne's grasp only to be lead into another cafe.

"Internet Cafe", Anne explained as she led Erin to the row of computers at the back, "I want to check you add."

"It's not an add", Erin corrected," I'm not for sale, It's a..."Erin struggled for the right word.

"I have a degree in marketing. It is an add.” Anne gestured to the screen. “Log in."

"Bossy", Erin muttered as she entered her details.

 

Erin had a fun time as she refined her requirements under Anne's guidance, improving her add, though she was still looking for a less demeaning term. When both Erin and Anne were satisfied she resubmitted the profile. Immediately a match popped up.

 

Hello

I offer Coffee, Companionship and Conversation.

In exchange I seek Coffee, Companionship and Conversation.

Trevor.

Ann looked over Erin's shoulder, "Good, Not Great, but good".

"Why?" Erin asked as she had been about to hit delete.

Anne pointed to various parts at the note. "He uses a real name. That's a plus. It is a coffee meeting. That suggest day. Another plus. He says very little about himself. A small minus. His Use of repetition is a bad attempt at poetry. Definite minus."

Erin asked "Why is poetry a minus?"

"Too early in the game, but that is personal taste. He does not hint at seeing where thing go. Plus." Ann turned to look at Erin, "There are warning phrases. See where things go; where things may lead; or worst of all see what comes up. Then is only one place they want their things to go and that is your suggestion not theirs."

Turning back to the screen Anne said "So let’s reply. We specify the time, make it lunch midweek, and the place , Cafe de Paris. It is in the park not far from here. Start typing."

Once the response had been sent Erin looked up at Anne, "You’re really good at this."

Anne grinned," If dating was an Olympic sport. I would be bringing Gold home for The USA. "

 


	12. Interium date

Erin Interim date

 

Erin walked over to Anne's desk. "Have you been to lunch yet Anne?"

"Just a Moment", Anne replied as she typed rapidly on her computer. "Chew on that, you electronic monster." she instructed her computer." Looking up at Erin, Anne sighed. “Highly educated Business Analyst or glorified data entry clerk?"

Erin smirked, “Maybe both. Which one wants to be bought lunch?”

"The hungry one and I thought your purse was empty?"

"We get paid tomorrow and I found a nickel under the bed. Anyway I owe you"

''If that's what you want, but I'll want dinner and dancing if you expect to get to first base." Anne laughed as she picked up her bag. "Are the others coming?"

"Michelle had to go shopping. Asha and Monica already had plans.

Anne frowned.

"Is then a problem?' Erin asked.

Anne shook her head," No. No problem. Where shall we go?"

 

Erin buttered the last of the corn bread.

"What's on your mind or did you just invite me out to eat corn bread at me?"

Brushing incriminating crumbs from her face, Erin said" I've been thinking about what we were talking about the other day"

"Condoms?” Anne asked loudly," Was it condoms you were thinking about, Erin?"

A few people turned to look.

"Shh. Will you?" Erin said sinking into her seat. “You are so embarrassing.” Erin continued. "No about arranging dates. I've got a dinner coming up and it breaks some of the rules we made."

"Oh? Which ones?"

"I did not choose the place, only have an address and the first meeting is at night. Should I cancel or...?"

Anne was silent for a few moments "Do you have his phone number?"

Erin shook her head.

"Not a problem. Email him and arrange a stand up meeting. O'Reily's is good and it’s not far from here. Have one drink, chat for five minutes and get an impression of what he is like. If he seems ok, go on the date. If not cancel."

Erin smiled and reached out to touch Anne's hand. "Thanks Anne."

Anne smiled, "This is what friends are for. Do you want to share another cornbread?"

 

Erin sat at a computer at her local internet café, the reply to her email had arrived within a few minutes of hers being sent.

_Dear Erin,_

_A short, initial meeting is an inspired suggestion. I really have a good feeling about this. It is most fortunate as I am in the area today.  I shall meet you at O’Reilys at 6 PM tonight near the front door._

_Jason_

Erin had to hurry back to her office before her lunch break was over.

 

At the end of the work day as their fellow workers trickled out of the office, Anne sat on Erin’s desk as she watched Erin pack up for the day. “Well?” Anne asked.

Erin locked and checked her desk draws. “Six PM meeting at O’Reily’s. One drink and I decide on the spot if the Friday’s dinner is on or not.”

Anne smiled, “I will call you at Six Fifteen. I expect you to have you phone handy and your pants on.”

“You are just rude.”

“It’s what you like about me.”

Erin laughed. “I’ll wait for your call”

 

Erin stood by a small circular table with a clear view of the bar’s front door, a glass of sparkling mineral water nestled in her hands. After work drinkers gathered in small groups or drifted from table to table. While the bar was not packed there were not many free tables left.  Unlike G-Bar, where people sat at the bar or at tables, here everyone stood and the furniture was built to accommodate this.

Erin checked her watch nervously and glanced to the side entrance to ensure that it had not been blocked in the five minutes since she last checked.

A man entered the bar and glanced around blinking. A slightly built man with the beginning of a receding hairline, wearing large wire rimmed glasses and a brown suit. The man checked his watch as people pushed past him to enter. Erin thought he looked out of place. _Was this Jason?_ Erin waved hesitantly at the man blocking the door and he made his way to her.

“I’m Jason”, He said, “You must be Erin.”

“Yes. I’m Erin. Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice.” _Oh no. I sound like I’m at work. Relax Erin. Relax._

“Actually your invitation came at a most opportune time. I am rarely in this part of the city, I just took a moment to check my email and there was your email. It is hard not to see an invisible hand guiding us”. Jason smiled.

Erin though how pushy Anne could be in her _suggestions_. “Some times that hand is not that invisible.”

Jason’s smile widened. “True. Sometimes, it can be most obvious. “

Erin was not completely sure that they were talking about the same thing, but decided to press on, “So what did you have in mind for Friday?” _Oh God. Now I sound like my Grandmother._

There is a new restaurant. It has just opened. It’s called The Murdered Crab. Have you heard of it?”

Erin shook her head, “No. I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered a name like that.”

“Well. I thought we would have dinner there, a chance to talk. I really had not thought it much past then. I think if you over plan you leave no room for serendipity.”

“That invisible hand again. “ Erin said.

“Exactly. I knew you would understand. I am so very glad you suggested this short meeting. It can be unsettling to meet new people and now I have met you I really feel we are in harmony. Do you feel it too?”

Erin was not sure harmony would describe what she felt, but she certainly did not sense any threat so she smiled and said. “Yes. I’m glad we met too. I will see you on Friday at The Murdered Crab.”

Jason checked his watch, “Wonderful. Sadly I must run or I shall miss my bus. Till Friday. May the Angels watch over you.” He turned and left the bar with a much more certain tread that he had arrived.

 _That went well,_ Erin thought, _I’m getting better at this._ Erin’s phone rang. Answering the phone, Erin said, “Yes Anne, everything is fine. It is barely ten minutes past however.”

Anne replied, “So. How is it going?”

“He is already gone. And yes, we will be dining on Friday”

“Gone already? That’s a bit quick”

Erin toyed with her drink, “He had to catch a bus, he didn’t even have a drink and if I leave now I can catch my usual train. Thanks for calling, Anne.”

Erin looked up from putting her phone in her bag to discover her table now had two extra young men, both of whom looked a little tipsy.

“Partying hard?” the first asked.

“Or hardly partying” the second completed.

“Neither”, Erin responded as she turned and left the bar leaving the two men at the table.


	13. Candi's Conference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin helps a fellow PA

Erin liked attending conferences. They were indoor, they were warm and the good ones were catered. The downside was she had next to nothing to do and they were boring.

Erin was returning from the challenging task of getting two cups of coffee when her fond daydream of Paris was disturbed by an angry voice.

 

"When are the pie charts?” a young and well dressed man demanded of an equally young and well dressed woman.

"I'm sure I put them in your bag, sir." The woman replied.

The angry man thrust the bag into her hands, "This is what I get for hiring an ex-cheerleader. If you are so smart, you find it. And while you are being so smart, you can get me a drink, I am presenting in fifteen minutes."

The man stormed off in the direction of the restrooms, leaving the woman on the edge of tears.

Erin quickly delivered the coffees, received muttered thanks from her boss and she returned to the foyer where the tear eyed woman was still sorting through the papers.

"Can I help in any way?” Erin asked the women.

The woman looked up, startled.

"Could you get a Vodka and Tonic from the bar? It's not for me" The woman asked.

Erin went to the bar wondering if the drink would be improved by extra spit. As Erin returned the young woman was putting the last at the papers into a folder.

"They are in the right order now”, She explained.

Erin studied the woman before her. Younger than Erin and more provocatively dressed, Erin classed her as 'Arm Candy'

Erin put the glass down," I'm Erin" she said

The younger woman smiled “My name is Candy"

 _You have to be joking_ Erin thought and this must have reflected in her expression as the woman said "I know, Right? It’s not even short for Candice. When I was born my Grandfather said "She's as sweet as Candy”, so that what my parents named me. It is hard to get taken seriously."

"Why do you let him treat you that way?”

 

Candy sighed, ''Jobs are hard to get". Whatever Candy intended to say next was lost to the return of the angry voice," Are you done yet? I see you needed extra help."

He turned to Erin "I do apologise on behalf at my assistant. Some people need more help than others."

Erin gave him the smile that her grandmother reserved for the poor. "Yes, some people have no idea just how much help they need.”

"Right.” he said his tone uncertain

An organiser approached, "Excuse me sir. Can I just go over your AV slides?"

Taking his drink, Candy's boss followed the organiser.

Candy was struggling to hold back her tears.

Erin spoke quickly and quietly to Candy," Do you know the combination to his brief case?"

"Yes"

"Change it:"

"What?”

"Change it”

Candy deftly altered the combination.

''Good," said Erin" Now lock it."

Candy looked nervous but did as Erin said.

"What happens now?” Candy asked.

"Trust me.” Erin said.

Candy's Boss returned, snatched his briefcase and said to Candy, "I don't pay you to stand around and chat”, before storming towards the stage.

Candy wrung her hands nervously, "This is going to be bad. This is going to be bad."

"Wait, just wait" Erin said soothingly.

On the stage Candy's boss had begun his presentation. He thanked the organisers and introduced himself. As he introduced his topic he reached to open his briefcase. His presentation faltered.

Erin looked from the presenter on stage back to Candy. “Here’s what you do. Stand proud. Don’t say anything. March up there and open the brief case. Then leave."

Candy squeaked

Candy's boss continued to struggle with his briefcase, his presentation forgotten.

"And...Go" Erin said giving Candy a small push,

Candy followed Erin's instructions and left the stage to resounding applause from the audience.

Erin returned to her seat beside Mr Stojoski.

 

The conference was over. Mr Stojoski was networking. Erin waited at the cloak room for their coats. A mature, well dressed woman leant on the Cloak counter beside Erin.

"We saw what you did." the woman said.

"Sorry?" Erin asked.

The woman did not look at Erin, "With the bully and the briefcase. Amusing, Yes. But it will be harder on her when he works it out." The woman now turned to face Erin," And he will. Make no mistake."

Erin was shocked, "Where is she? I need to..."

The woman put her hand on Erin's shoulder, “You need to do your job and stop meddling in things that don't concern you. We have handled the matter.”

"We?" Erin queried

Erin was handed a card. "International Personal Assistants Association (Boston Chapter)." Erin read aloud. Looking up from the card Erin asked," What? Are you like the PA mafia?"

The woman stared at Erin until Erin began to squirm in discomfort. Finally the Woman answered. "No."

Erin's further questions were derailed by the arrival of the coats and when she turned back the woman was disappearing into the crowd.

 

Friday afternoon and the week was done. Erin had asked it any one knew about the International Personal Assistants Association. No one did. Erin had looked up the list at conference speakers and, making a guess, called a number and asked to speak to Candy, only to be told she had resigned and moved to a new organisation.

 

As Erin was packing up Anne approached. "So what are your plans?" Anne asked.

Erin sighed dramatically. "Mom" she mock protested.

Anne folded her arms and tapped her foot.

"All right", Erin said, "I have a dinner date tonight with Jason. You know, the one I met for a quick chat earlier this week. It is at The Murdered Crab, which I have checked out and noted all three exits."

"Good", Anne said “and...?”

Erin rolled her eyes and opened her handbag showing the box at condoms, "You are soooo embarrassing."

Ann reached into her pocket, "One more thing."

Erin frowned perplexed.

Anne passed a hundred dollar bill to Erin," Emergency money. It's a loan; if you don't use it I want it back."

"I have money." Erin protested

"And now you have more. No Arguments."


	14. The Murdered Crab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin tries dating again.

The Murdered Crab was a new seafood restaurant on the edge of Boston's tourist area. Located on a corner it had an excellent view of the City sky line and a mediocre view at the harbour.

While there was a steady flow of patrons into the restaurant, there was only one person waiting outside. Jason was dressed similarly to when they had met a few days ago, large wire rimmed glasses and a brown suit. The suit had been dressed up by the addition of a gold bowtie. He clasp a single red rose in both hands as he searched the passers-by.

 _He might look like a bank clerk but at least he is not keeping me waiting_ , Erin thought. Erin was not sure she though this dinner was a date. The word date suggested more intimacy that she intended with someone she had met only once before, but until she could come up with a better word, date would have to do.

Seeing Erin, the man in the brown suit took a step forward, “Hello Erin. You are even more beautiful than when we last met."

Erin shocked by this greeting. It was flattering, but it was also a strange thing to say to someone you barely know.

Erin wanted this night to go well so she smiled and supressed her shock.

"Thank you, Jason “Erin replied.

"Jason Merlot, like the wine. Sorry, was my outburst too much. Probably a bit early I'm thinking. One forms expectations you know, Even though one should not.” Jason said in a breathless patter.

Jason thrust the flower in Erin’s direction, “Here is a flower. A rose. Do you like roses?

Erin was a little overwhelmed. She was not sure which question to answer. She thought his excitement harmless but Erin was not yet willing to relax. She took the flower and had no idea what to do with it.

"Yes it is fine." Erin reassured "Shall we go in?"

"Oh yes. I'm very excited about dining here. Did you read the review? It got three stars in the local paper. I have a very good feeling about this."

The restaurant was new even if the building was not. Fresh paint, new tables, and a strong crab motif. The staff that bustled through the mostly occupied tables seemed cheerful, young and enthusiastic in their crab themed aprons. Fishing nest with entangled crabs decorated the ceiling.

"Welcome to The Murdered Crab" said a young woman with a bright smile.

"We have a booking. A table for two. In the name of Merlot. Like the wine?" Jason said.

The staff member consulted the book near the door, “Please follow me" she said and led them to a table near the back of the room. Erin mapped the path to the front and side doors and selected the seat away from the wall. It place her back to the room. It also placed her closer to the door. Jason tried to seat her, but did not seem to be able to shift her chair correctly and after a few tries gave up.

Jason closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Erin thought this calmed him.

He opened the menu, "I've read the crab is really good."

Erin reviewed the menu. Not surprising most of the meals were Crab based and, to Erin's dismay, expensive.

Paying her half was going to empty her purse. She mentally noted to check the prices next time.

Anne's voice whispered in her ear " _Let them pay_ ", but Erin was uncomfortable with not paying her share.  It made her feel indebted. Erin could not think of anyone who had paid for her and not held it over her head later. Everyone wanted their pay back somehow.

Jason interrupted her thoughts, "I hope you don't mind, but I don't drink. I know being named Merlot, you might think I would, but I don't. I'm happy for you to do so. Drink that is. I think it addles the mind. Disconnects you from your higher self."

Erin shook her head, “No that’s good. I’ll just have whatever you are drinking.”

Jason beamed at her, “That is so encouraging. Really it is. I expected, well not actually expected, but I had certainly considered the possibility that there may have been some disharmony. But no, of course there’s not.”

Erin could not follow all of what Jason said. There always seemed to be an extra idea in every sentence. Attempting to address her immediate concern she said, “Jason, these meals are quite expensive.”

Jason frowned and studied the menu, “Are they? No. That is what I’d expect to pay. They may be more expensive than meals that are less expensive. But crab, crab doesn’t grow on trees. Well yes. I know you know crabs don’t grow on trees, but do not trouble yourself. Choose what you wish. I will cover this. It is what a gentleman does on a date.”

Jason sat back with a content smile on his face. Erin tried to match his smile, but it still troubled her that she could blow a week’s food budget on a single meal. Erin hid her concern behind the menu and chose lower price meals.

The wait staff came and Jason ordered a jug of water with slices of lemon, seeds removed and not the ends. Erin thought it was a very specific order for lemon water.

When it came time to order the food Erin ordered an entrée, soft shelled crab and a side salad. She watched Jason carefully to see it he made any comment. He just smiled and added his own order.

With the distraction of ordering and the menus gone an awkward silence formed between them. To dispel the silence Erin said "So. Tell me a bit about yourself."

On her first, disastrous, Boston date, Wayne had avoided any questions about himself. Jason was extremely enthusiastic to talk. "Well. Where to start?" Jason mused, "I was born here, in Boston and I here lived here all my life.  So, I guess, I could be considered a Boston native. Well not a native native, you understand. Those were a proud people. Totally decimated by the fur trappers. And by disease, Disease is a terrible thing. Have you ever been sick Erin? You look healthy. You have a healthy aura. I'd say you are watched over by a health angel"

Erin drew breath to reply but Jason continued on without pause.

"So, as I was saying, lived here all my life. I still live with my parents. I'm sure you are shocked. Twenty four and still living with my parents. Both parents, they are still together. It's not just money, though buying a place, even a small apartment, can be frightfully expensive. I really need to focus on attracting a wealth angel. No. It's because of my sister, younger sister. She is not well, has not been for some time. Do you have a sister, Erin?"

Erin had been lulled by Jason's continued patter and had not been expecting a question.

"Um. No." Ern responded. "I'm an only child."

"Only child?” Jason resumed" Yes I have often wondered what it would be like. To be the centre of attention. That sort at thing."

Erin wondered if he always spoke that way or if he was nervous. Perhaps he was trying to impress her.

Even the arrival of their meals did little to still Jason’s excited patter. As Erin ate she heard about angels. Guiding Angels, Guarding Angels, Health Angels, Sickness Angels, Wealth Angels. Jason saw the handiwork of angels at every turn. Suddenly ceasing his relentless flow of chatter, Jason leaned forward and fixed Erin with an intense gaze.

"Erin. Do you believe in angels?" he asked.

Even with Jason’s obvious interest in angels, Erin was surprised by the question. Her religious upbringing had not been particularly devout, her memory of church revolved around her grandmother's social jockeying.

She could not recall angels ever being a topic of discussion.

"I'm not really sure" Erin said to buy time.

Jason nodded, "Yes, Yes. That is to be expected. Angels do not thrust themselves forward. It takes attunement to your higher self to be aware of them. I was not aware of angels initially. It was when my sister was in hospital one time. I had been sitting with her, I think I had been there two, maybe three days, and a nurse came in to take my sister’s night temperature, or something like that. He woke us both, and when I looked at him I could see an intense glow around him. In the morning my sister was well enough to go home. Can’t you see? The angels had revealed themselves to me.”

Erin was uncertain how she really felt about angels. "I guess." She said.

Jason continued," Have you ever had someone or something help you just when you needed it?"

Erin thought of the kindness of Jane, of Daria's willingness to help Erin even though it ruined her plans.

"Yes." Erin agreed.

''Angels.” Jason confirmed.

Although the talk of angels was getting unsettling Erin thought that the date was going reasonably well. Jason was polite, he was willing to talk about himself and he was not trying to get her drunk. She did not want to disrupt that, so her reply was less confrontational than her thoughts. "It seemed more like people to me."

Jason nodded "Yes. Exactly. That is the angels working. They often work through people. Consider yourself. Did coming on this date seem a little out of character for you?"

Erin was again surprised. He had actually labelled this a date and he seemed to imply that he already knew about her.

"It was a bit out of character", Erin admitted,” But not a lot."

Jason sat back in his chair, his expression satisfied, "Your angels guide you with a gentle touch. That’s good, very good."

Erin's lips tightened, "I think I make my own decisions."

"Yes. Yes, that is how it feels to the lower self." Jason replied.

Before Erin could respond Jason's eyes went wide," I have just realised. I have done all the talking, please tell be about you. Were you born in Boston?"

Feeling on safer ground than an argument about spiritual beings, Erin launched into a more detailed personal history than she originally intended. The only thing she avoided mentioning was marrying Brian and his gift of an STD.

The waitress arriving to enquire after their desert preferences broke Erin's mostly happy reminiscences and she noted Jason was wearing an odd expression. One of smug excitement.

"Erin, you are wonderful. Before I came here tonight I asked my Angels for guidance and they gave me signs to look for in a potential partner."

Jason removed a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, flattened it out and passed it to her.

The paper contained a list:

\- Recent Change in fortunes

\- Moved from the south

\- Left a restricting family

\- Will be blond or redhead

-will be aware of expenses

"This is a pretty general list", Erin said as she looked up from the list to where Jason was no longer seated.

Jason was not in his chair. Instead he was beside the table down on one knee and holding a small box out to her. An open box. A ring box. A ring box containing a ring.

"Erin. Our angels have conspired to bring us together. They have given me the signs to identify you. They have prepared you for this moment.”

Looking up into Erin’s eyes Jason asked, “Erin Chambers, will you marry me?"

Erin was up, out of her chair. Her serviette held before her as a shield.

"What?" she gasped," You can't ask me that. This is a first date. You were not even getting kissed!"

Jason, still on one knee said, "The angels have arranged it. It is inevitable. You cannot refuse your own angels."

Erin backed away, painfully aware that she was the centre of attention, "You'll be surprised just what I can refuse and shut up about angels."

She dug through her handbag, found her emergency fifty dollars and threw it on the table, "That will cover my meal and seeing you asked directly, I'll answer you directly. No. I will not marry you. Not now. Not later. Not ever.”

Erin turned on her heel and fled through the startled faces for the nearest exit.

Pulling Anne's one hundred dollar bill from its hiding place in her bra, Erin flagged down a passing taxi and climbed in before it had completely stopped.

Later that night, safe at home and wrapped in her dressing gown Erin wondered if the problem was her or Boston. Maybe it was men. Erin dialled a number and left a message" I'm home safe, Anne. I'll tell you all about it on Monday."


	15. Coffee, Company, Conversation

Arriving at work on Monday morning, Erin had not taken her coat off before Anne pounced.

"How did it go?" Anne asked," Was he dreamy?"

Erin smirked. "Do you mean before the marriage proposal or after? Because they were very different experiences"

"What? The... What?" Anne stuttered.

Erin hung her coat, maneuvered past the large wilting potted plant and through the maze of soft partitioning to put her bag under the desk before answering, "The marriage proposal. Aren't they typical of Boston dates?"

Anne choked. "You're joking. You are joking, Right?"

Erin turned to face Anne and dropped to one knee. “Erin. You are destined for me. Marry me."

“Is there something you two want to tell me?" Monica asked as she entered office, her outdoor coat draped over her arm.

Erin stood. "Just playing out how Friday night went. My date proposed."

Monica looked shocked. “Wasn’t it a first date? Did he say what I thought you just said?"

"Who said what on a first date? “Michelle asked as she hung up her coat on the communal coat rack.

Anne answered, “Nothing special. Just Erin got her first manage proposal over the weekend."

Erin laughed, "It was not my first marriage proposal. It was the first one where I got the answer right."

Monica asked, “What did you say?"

"No. No", Michelle interrupted, "I want the whole story. From the beginning."

Erin related the entire date to her astounded co-workers.

"He sounds like a loony," was Monica's assessment.

"You did the right thing." Anne said

"Are you really ok?" Michelle asked," We don't want you getting Post Traumatic Dating Syndrome."

Erin asked "How would I know if I had that?"

Michelle replied," Check your house. If you have more cats than shoes, you’ve got it."

Further discussion about dating and cat ratios as a mental health metric was disrupted by an influx of management.

 

At lunch Erin and her friends gathered at the local cafe.

"Are you still alright?" Michelle asked concerned

"I am fine. Really" Erin confirmed, "It was weird, but I never felt threatened."

Anne asked," Are you safe. Did you tell him any personal details? Can he find you?"

Erin considered how openly she had talked about herself. "I don't think so. I didn't tell him my address"

Anne asked "What about your Wednesday coffee date?"

Monica said "Cancel it."

Erin shook her head, “I’m not going to cancel it. I gave my word."

Michelle looked unconvinced "No one would hold it against you."

"Possibly not," Erin agreed, "But I said I would go. But this will be the last date for a while."

Anne shrugged. "I admire your integrity but I am going with you."

Erin said “I'm not taking you on a date."

"We won’t go together. I'll sit at another table"

Erin reached out and placed her hand on Anne's arm," Thanks. That means a lot to me."

"So cute and me without my camera." Michelle said and every one at the table laughed.

"Has any one seen Zoe?" Erin asked and the question killed the humour at the table.

"You haven’t heard?" Monica asked.

Michelle said" Her husband is in hospital again."

Erin frowned, “Again? I had heard he had been sick."

The ladies looked at each other.

Michelle explained, “He works very hard. Really pushes himself. Seven days a week, dawn to dusk and then he will …”, Michelle paused, "collapse.”

Monica nodded, “He is really driven, until he is not."

Erin said "That puts my problems in their place."

 

At her desk Erin glanced at her watch again as she had done all Wednesday morning. She did not want to waste any of the extended lunch break she had arranged. She decided to pre-emptively visit the bathroom.

Anne was waiting at Erin's desk when she returned.

"Are you ready to go?" Ann asked.

"I guess so” Erin replied, "I still can't work out it I think this is a good idea or not".

"If you want to walk away you have my full support" Anne said.

"No. I can't. I checked my email this morning at the Internet Cafe and he had sent a confirmation email."

Erin produced a printout and showed it to Anne.

"He has included a photo and a full name", Anne observed. "It's a pity the cheap printers the cafe use did such a bad job at the photo."

Ann handed the page back," Let's go."

 

The Cafe sat in the middle of a well kept park in sight of Boston harbour. A building with folding glass doors opening out to a paved area with a scattering outdoor tables and chairs. Singles, couples, tourists and families wandered the park enjoying the slightly warmer weather. The café was well patronised with many of the tables both inside and out being occupied.

Anne stopped Erin, “You go first. Once you have a table I’ll get into position.”

Erin studied the crowd around the café, “It will be fine Anne. It is a midday coffee, not D-Day”

“I know. I know. Off you go”

Erin approached the cafe. A man sitting at one at the outside tables rose and approached her. Erin glanced at the printout in her hand, it could be him.

The approaching man was unlike any Erin had dated or even considered. A little taller than her, his dark grey hair and beard were both close cropped giving the impression at a continuous pelt. His shoulders were broad enough to tension the tweed sport jacket. Erin had spent enough times shopping in thrift stores to recognise a pre-loved jacket but who was she to judge. The jacket over a Turtleneck long sleeve shirt, jeans and brand new tennis shoes gave the feeling that the wearer could not decide on smart or casual and had split the difference. He also seemed older than she had been expecting. Maybe forty?

His most outstanding feature was his smile. He looked genuinely delighted to see Erin. Erin found herself smiling back.

"Hello. I'm Trevor Wright” the man said offering his hand, "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Erin?"

Erin took his hand, finding it warm and calloused and his grip firm. She thought he smelled faintly of cedar. "How did you know I was Erin?"

Trevor released Erin’s hand, "I didn't. You are the third woman I have addressed this way."

Erin grinned “That must have been embarrassing for you."

"Not really. The second lady offered to be Erin if you did not turn up. But I say, _Accept No Substitutes_." Trevor met and held Erin's gaze, "Thank you for joining me, Erin." He gestured to the table he had vacated, “Coffee, or would you also like lunch?"

Erin sat at the table. Trevor waited till she was seated before he sat.

"Just coffee, thanks.” Erin said.

Trevor nodded and signalled to one of the wandering wait staff. "Erin, would you mind if I got myself something to eat?"

Erin shook her head, "No, of course not."

The waiter approached and Trevor gestured to Erin. "Please, serve the lady first."

The server turned to Erin his pen poised over the order pad.

"Just coffee" Erin said and she noticed the briefest flicker of a frown cross Trevor's face.

Trevor ordered, “Café Latte, with an extra shot of coffee. Steamed milk of course. And a toasted cheese sandwich, please.”

The server took the order and left. Trevor smiled apologetically to Erin. “I have found that if I am not specific about my coffee, the results are unpredictable.”

Erin frowned remembering Jason’s pedantic order for lemon water and the meeting with Jason had not ended well.

“How would you order lemon water?” Erin asked.

“Umm, Could I have some water with some lemon in it, please?” Trevor replied cautiously, “Why, did you want lemon water?”

“No, just curious.”

“Curiosity is good. What else are you curious about?”

Erin considered not asking but was reassured by seeing Anne sit at a table nearby, “Your accent. I cannot place it at all”.

“Ah. My accent is hard to place because I am an international spy, and … “, Trevor’s voice faltered under Erin’s glare.

Trevor continued, “And I can see that this was the wrong thing to say. May I ask how I have stumbled here?”

Erin maintained her cold glare, “My Ex-husband told me he worked for the CIA. Funny how he lost his job the day we got married”.

Trevor lowered his head slightly, “Intelligence? But that can’t be right. If he had any intelligence he would have made sure never to lose one such as you”.

Erin’s cool demeanour was undermined by the flash of her grin.

Trevor took a deep breath, “My name is Trevor Wright. I travel a great deal for my work. I was born in Dunedin, educated in Melbourne and then Christchurch, and have just finished a six month contract in Wales. I am currently on a six month contract here in Boston, though who in their right mind comes to Boston in winter?”

“I did” Erin said, her tone a little sharp.

“Yes. That was the correct answer. You were the one person in their right mind.”

Trevor sighed, “I do feel I have gotten off on the wrong foot. Can we start afresh?”

Erin thought that he seemed sincere, “It’s ok. What is it that you do?”

Trevor frowned again, “My job sounds very boring.”

“I promise I won’t find it boring.”

“Alright. But you were warned. I am an engineer who specialises in the statistical prediction of failures of iron bolts in aging bridges.”

Erin shook her head slightly as she unpacked the explanation, “So you are an engineer, who does math on old bridges”

Trevor’s mouth tightened as he tried to suppress a smile, “In a nutshell. Yes.”

“That sounds,” Erin looked around seeking some better end to her sentence. She did not find one.

“That sounds really boring.” Erin admitted.

Trevor laughed, “I know. It does. I enjoy it and so few people want to do it. There is more demand for it than you would imagine.”

Erin smiled, “Given that I had not imagined any demand even existing, I suppose you are right.”

“I’ve been Wright all my life”

Erin re-joined, “In name at least.”

Trevor’s smile widened, “Sometimes in name only.”

He looked over Erin’s shoulder, “This could be our order.”

Erin followed his gaze and watched as their coffees were delivered. Trevor’s toasted sandwich arrived a few moments later. Once the cups and plates were settled and Trevor had taken a few moments to savour the scent of his coffee, he looked at Erin.

“Your turn” he said, “What would you like to tell me about you?”

 

Erin found she loved talking to Trevor. He paid attention to her. He seemed genuinely interested in her. He laughed at her tale of cooking for Daria and Jane. He described Brian as a fool in a tone so contemptuous that Brian was dismissed from the conversation.

He told Erin anecdotes about places he had been. They compared notes on their relative experiences of Switzerland.

Erin reminisced. “So I was all set to kick Brian out on his ass, but my Grandmother sent me to a Swiss Spa to settle my nerves. Grandmother did not want another divorce sullying the family name. I met this guy on the flight to Switzerland. Later he turns up at the spa and is really pouring on the charm.” Erin looked down at her hands, “It was working too, but he could not keep his story straight. So I kicked him out.” Erin’s eyes went wide, “Oh My God! His name was Jason too.”

“Jason?” Trevor asked.

“Yes. The guy in Switzerland, and a really bad date I had.”

Trevor took out a pen from his jacket pocket and made some notes on a napkin as he said, “Keep story straight. Do not be called Jason. Charm known to work.” Trevor folded the napkin and placed it and his pen back in his jacket.

Erin sipped her coffee only to find her cup was empty.

“Shall I order you another?” Trevor asked.

“No. Tell me the silliest thing you have seen someone else do”

Trevor considered, “Very well. I was in Palermo, that’s in Sicily, and I was somewhat between jobs when I met an acquaintance. He had secured work to cable up a medieval church for a big socialite wedding. Speakers, lights, cameras, the works. The only issue was that because the church was so old, he could not make any alterations to the building. Not even drill a hole. This greatly complicated the work. I suggested that he put in temporary cable trays, but no he had to be clever. He decides he will run the cables inside the walls, and he had bought himself two ferrets. That was how they did the cabling in Westminster Abbey for the Wedding of Charles and Dianna. So, anyway, he ties a line to one of these ferrets and stuffs it down a rat hole. For a while the line runs and then stops. He tugs the line, nothing, does not go forward, does not come back.”

Erin leaned in, “So what did he do?”

Trevor took a drink of his water, “He tied the other end of the line to the second ferret, but this one bit him, so he dropped it and it bolted down the hole, taking the line with it. So there he was, head on the ground, bum in the air, swearing down a rat hole when the senior priest turns up to see how we were doing. It did not help that neither of us spoke Italian.”

Laughing Erin reached out and took a toasted cheese triangle and bit into it. “So how did ….” Erin looked at the bitten sandwich in her hand and blushed as she looked up at Trevor’s smiling face. “Oh no. Your sandwich. I didn’t … I mean I wasn’t thinking. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Trevor shook his head laughing. “If you were hungry enough to eat it, then I happily surrender it to you. There is not currently a world shortage of cheese sandwiches”.

They exchanged smiles.

He reached out and took her hand, “What there sadly is a shortage of,” he said, “is remaining moments of lunch time. You probably need to go.”

Erin looked confused, “Go?”

Trevor nodded, “If this is your lunch break, then you are probably already running late.”

Erin checked her watch. She was so shocked at the indicated time she held the watch to her ear.

Erin looked up, “Yes, but you have to tell me what happened to the ferrets?”

It was Trevor's turn to look puzzled,” The ferrets? Oh those. Yes, they were found in the cafeteria next door  and they still had the cord tied around them. Rest assured the ferrets were safe.”

Erin stood as did Trevor.

“I’ve really enjoyed myself,” Erin said.

“As have I”, Trevor replied. “Have you enjoyed yourself enough to do it again?”

Erin nodded. She had been wondering how to suggest another meeting.

Trevor smiled, “Wonderful. Shall we meet here again? Lunch on Saturday and this time you need not hurry away.”

Erin though if she smiled any harder her face would split, “Yes, Lunch on Saturday.”

“Excellent. I will be here at noon and now you best collect your body guard and return to work.”

“Body Guard?”

“Yes. That young woman at the adjacent table, who has spent all this time trying very hard not to look at us.”

Trevor gave Erin a slight bow. Erin just smiled in return.

Collecting Anne, Erin hurried back to work as Trevor stood by the table and watched them go.

Anne lasted almost halfway across the park before she spoke. “Well. How you managed not to crawl into his lap I’ll never know.”

“What?” Erin replied shocked.

Anne shook her head, “You were hanging on every word he said.”

“You are imagining things, Anne”

“Really? What colour were his eyes?”  
Erin sighed, “Kind of a deep rich brown with light amber flecks … What does that matter anyway?”

Anne laughed. Her expression becoming more serious," He is older than was expecting."

"We are just meeting for coffee and conversation", Erin replied defensively," Age does not matter for that. Anyway he is not that old."

Anne laughed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Second Coffee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dating gets serious

It was Saturday morning and Erin was out at bed early. All of her clothes, even the loathsome skirt, were laid on the bed or hung from every possible hook. Erin nibbled on toast while she combined outfits in her mind. Her work pants were too formal and Trevor had already seen them. No skirts till it was warmer. Jeans over thermals would let her wear her short boots and they were very comfortable, but what to wear on top?  The roulette wheel of fashion spun finally settling on a smart comfortable look of jeans, boots, cowboy shirt and her ski jacket. Erin saw she had fifteen minutes till her hairdresser appointment and it was a ten minute walk.

The hair dresser complimented Erin's hair (as they always did) and said that if everyone had red hair and natural curls that they would be out of a job (as they always did) and they agreed on a wash, a light trim and some subtle layering. Erin gritted her teeth as she paid. It was expensive.

Back at home she rechecked her hand bag. Money, emergency money, cell phone, keys, lipstick even the embarrassing box of condoms. Everything she needed. Erin left a quick message on Anne's answering service, glanced around the room and left.

Just beyond the point where it was too late to return home, Erin began to doubt her clothing choices. Was she too casual? Was the ski jacket a mistake? Trevor had dressed informally for their first coffee, but this was lunch, what it he had dressed up? She looked down, trying to convince herself that she looked fine. _If he is so hung up on what I wear, that is his problem_ , Erin thought. She almost convinced herself.

 

The park's inhabitants were different on a Saturday. More tourists, less people in suits. Couples wandered aimlessly and a police officer tried to help a Japanese family decipher a map.

 

Erin scanned the crowd worried that she would not see Trevor. Her fear was unfounded. Trevor had abandoned the subtle sports jacket of their previous meeting favouring instead the brightest orange jacket Erin had even seen. In comparison, the pink and green of her ski jacket seemed subdued. Trevor s jacket was large covering from his ears down to his mid thighs. His smile on seeing her was as enthusiastic as ever. Trevor’s approach was so enthusiastic Erin was concerned he was going to hug her and was a little disappointed when he didn't.

"Erin. So good to see you." Trevor said

Erin returned his smile. “Glad to see you too. Did you steal that jacket from an arctic explorer?"

''This old thing?” Trevor said tugging at the collar," No I bought it from a second hand store run by a Polar bear. A quick wash and it was good as new"

Turning from Trevor's gaze she glanced into the crowded cafe. "I hope we can get a table."

"That why I made a reservation."

''I didn't know you could make a reservation at a café."

"Neither did I before I asked." Trevor offered Erin his arm and hours of deportment training guided her arm to rest on top of his and he led her into the Cafe as if it were a grand ball. Erin giggled nervously.

Seated at the reserved booth at the corner of the room they studied the laminated menu.

"Would you like that lemon water you spoke of last time? “Trevor asked.

Looking up from her menu, Erin considered. When she had mentioned it previously it was a test to see how much Trevor was like Jason, Very little it turned out. Now she wondered if he was testing her but his smile was so open she decided he wasn't. "Yes that would be nice."

With the water ordered and deliverer in a carafe with two glasses and the waiter waved away, Trevor spoke, his tone a little deeper and less light hearted, "Erin"

Erin's heart dropped at his more serious tone. _Oh no. Please don't let him propose. Please._

"Please understand that I am happy and able to pay for all our meals ...”

 _Pay?_ thought Erin. _Oh this is about money. He is not proposing, I don't have to run._

".... that some people prefer to pay their own way. What is your preference?"

Realising she had missed some of his words to her own thoughts, Erin hastily reviewed what she had heard. He was willing to pay and was offering her a chance to contribute or something like that. She was well aware that her financial situation was at best described as tight, yet she did not want to seem cheap. "If you pay for the meal, I could cover the tip?” She half asked, half suggested.

Trever smiled. "I think that will work perfectly, because I sometimes forget.”

Erin ordered a quiche and salad, mostly because she was planning to make a quiche and wanted to remind herself what they were like.

Trevor ordered eggs on toast, which Erin thought was breakfast, and an espresso. When his drink arrived she was surprised how small it was and how fast it was gone.

Seeing Erin's obvious surprise Trevor said" I got the taste for coffee when I was working in Italy. That is how they drink it there."

"OH. You have been to Italy?" Erin said realising as she did so she sounded foolish.

Trevor nodded as he sliced a corner from his toast, "I spent two years working around the Mediterranean.  Italy, Greece, Montenegro.” He waved his toast laden fork. “Beautiful old buildings, some from Roman times. Wonderful stone bridges without a single rusty bolt. Is history of interest to you, Erin?"

"I didn't really study it at school", Erin said, caught off guard by the question.

"Then I won't bore you with it", Trevor said. "What does interest you?"

Erin didn't have an answer and she was shocked she did not have answer. Frowning Erin wondered what that said about her.

"I'm interested in what you are thinking", Trevor interjected "It was supposed to be an easy question."

Looking up from her thoughts and her untouched quiche she looked into Trevor's face trying to discern any hidden intent. All she saw was a gentle curiosity. "I told you that I moved to Boston recently?"

"Yes,” Trevor answered, putting his fork down and giving Erin his full attention, "Leaving your unworthy Ex-husband."

"Well I did a lot more than that. I left my whole life behind. My mother and grandmother, my friends, my place in society, Most of my possessions. Everything that defined me, that bound me there. So, this new Erin, The Boston Erin. I'm still working out who she is."

Trevor refilled her glass from the lemon water carafe, filled his own and drank. "There is a philosophy that states people live many lives with in their living years and they go through a series of deaths and re-births. Perhaps the old Erin died and the new Erin has been born".

"So you think I am starting again, not just running away?"

"You say running away like it's a bad thing. If your house was on fire, no one would criticise you for leaving it."

Erin dug her fork into her quiche breaking off an edible chunk. "Have you ever run away from anything?"

The resulting silence alerted her to a change in mood. Looking up she saw Trevor staring into the distance, his eyes wet.

"Trevor?" Erin gently prompted.

Trevor turned back and forced a smile, "Yes Erin. I ran away and no one whose opinion mattered, blamed me. But I think that may be a conversation for another day. Tell me something of your work."

Erin chattered about filing systems and the difficulty of getting vegetarian meals on domestic flights with Trevor slowly re-joining the conversion.

When both meals were finished Trevor reached out and took Erin's hand. "Thank you", he said.

Erin was unsure what to say so she smiled in reply.

"I think we pay at the counter," Trevor said as he rose, "Erin would you have time to walk with me?"

"Where did you want to go?"

"The where is not important. It is an excuse to spend more time with you."

Erin blushed, "Of course. Thank you."

Trevor paid at the counter while Erin left a tip on the table.

They walked across the park towards the harbour.

An older man casually dressed with a salt & pepper beard walked down the path toward them, a young sixteen or seventeen year old woman clung possessively to his arm. So close that she impeded his progress. Erin thought she was too close to be his daughter and too young to be anything else. As they passed the man nodded to Trevor. "Trevor."

"Barry.", Trevor responded.

Erin looked over her shoulder at the departing couple," You know them?"

"From the marina. Barry sails a boat out of San Diego."

"And her?"

"Rebecca?” Trevor's tone became guarded, "She does not really have a boat." Trevor pointed to a trio of birds in the park. Two where strutting and preening while the third was studiously ignoring them, "Look. Those two are saying look at me. Do you think she will choose either?"

Erin watched as the displaying birds jostled each other until the object of their display suddenly flew away. "No" she answered and they both laughed.

Turning to look at Erin, Trevor said" You have a beautiful laugh".

Blushing at the unexpected compliment she said "Thank you, yours is nice too."

An awkward silence hung between them.

"May I", Trevor began," May I hold your hand?"

This was not what she had expected. She smiled and offered her hand. He took it and they walked along the shore hand in hand.

"Are you staying near here?" Erin asked. She had been enjoining walking in silence but she had begun to worry that Trevor might be getting bored.

"No. I tend to stay close to the shore and the prices are cheaper to the south of the Harbour. You suggested meeting here so I assumed it was close for you."

"It's close to where I work," Erin said.

Tilting his head Trevor asked, “Would you rather we met somewhere else? Somewhere closer to where you live?"

Erin wonder if he was trying to find out when she lived or, like Ernest, was just being considerate. "No I like coming to the harbour. If you are trying to save money there must be cheaper places to stay than on the harbour. That is prime real estate.”

Trevor grinned," Being near the water suits me. My place is very small so it is not that expensive." His grin hinted that there was a joke.

Trevor took a step closer to her, "I have greatly enjoyed our lunch and walk."

Erin looked up at him," So did I."

"Would you like to do so again?"

"Yes. I would."

Trevor smiled, “Wonderful. There is a Greek restaurant I’ve been meaning to try. Would you join me this Friday night?”

"I would love to.”  Erin tilted her head up, rising slightly on her toes.

Trevor leaned down and Erin’s cell phone rang. Erin had forgotten completely about her phone and the sound startled her. Digging her phone out of her handbag she answered it.

"Hello? Anne?” Erin listened and then checked her watch.  "It is later than I thought." Erin smiled at Trevor.  "Yes. We are still out. We are walking in the park". Erin shook her head still smiling." Well you go and have a good time."

"Your bodyguard?" Trevor asked as Erin put her phone away.

"Yes" Erin confirmed," I had agreed to check in with her.”

"That is a good idea."

Erin smiled. "I'll see you Friday."

"I'll look forward to it."

Erin hesitated," I probably should go."

"Probably" said Trevor, making no effort to leave.

Erin hesitated and the moment was lost. She turned and walked across the Park towards the station. Glancing back she saw Trevor still standing where she had left him, watching her.


	17. A call from mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erin's phone call from Rita does not go well

_Were they dating?_  
  
Erin hummed as she finalised her nightly rituals. Occasionally she danced a few steps. Her weekend and Trevor had been wonderful. _If doing something makes you happy, makes both of you happy. Keep doing it._ She pirouetted in front of her mirror and blew her reflection a kiss.   
  
Erin's phone rang. Picking it up Erin bounced onto her bed. Was it Trevor? If he was in his bed and she was in her bed and they could talk in bed together. The phone number looked unfamiliar _who else would call her late at night._  
  
"Hello. You are speaking with Erin Chambers. How may I help you?" _Damn. That was the work answer._

  
A woman’s voice enquired, “Erin. Is that Erin?”  
Erin felt she should know the voice, "Yes, this is Erin."  
“Erin. This is your mother. Can’t you even recognise your own mother?”  
  
Erin’s eyes widened. "Oh. Mother." Erin sighed with the disappointment it was not Trevor. "Yes I recognise you now, it must have been a bad line."  
“Erin, my little baby”, Rita said, “I’ve Just been whon… wondering how my darling daughter was. Is”   
  
Rita usually had such a smooth, pleasant, phone voice. Erin began to form a suspicion.  
"Is there a problem, mother?" Erin asked.   
“Does there have to be a problem? Is calling my only daughter a problem? Am I not allowed to call my own daughter? Is that what you are saying?”

  
"No. Of course you can call at any time", Erin said, “I just wondered why you had called.”  
“My beautiful baby girl is so far away. And I. I was sitting and then I thought …, it was not like Mother, my mother, your grandmother had said anything. She always talks about you, Erin this and Erin that. You had always been close. Closer than I ever was.”  
  
Erin listened to her mother's rambling conversation.   
Rita continued, “So is my wonderful Erin alright? Are you keeping warm? Are you managing? Boston is so much more expensive that home.”  
"Yes. I'm fine. Yes, dressing warmly. It can be a struggle to make ends meet, but I'm managing.”  
  
“Well if you are doing so wellyoucouldsendsomemoneyhome.” Rita slurred  
Erin shook her head. "I’m sorry mother, I missed that.”

  
Rita’s voice cleared. “Are you lonely, Erin? So far away from everyone who cares for you?”  
Erin frowned. "Am I lonely? No. I have some work friends.” Erin decided not to mention Trevor.  
  
“Well lucky you.” Rita’s tone turned bitter, “How lovely that you can just waltz away and leave us behind and make new friends where ever you go. Some of us don’t have that luxury. I don’t have any one to talk to.”  
"I'm sorry you are lonely, but I needed to get away and make a clean start."  
“Good for you. It‘s just wonderful that at the first sign of diffi … difficulty you can abandon you own mother and make a clean start. You must be so proud.”

  
Erin looked shocked, "I was not trying to abandon you.”

  
Rita sobbed. “After all I did for you; you waited till we were at our lowest point. When we needed you most. Gone. Like a thief in the night. No so much as a good bye.”  
  
Erin shook her head slightly. "Mother, you are twisting things around." Erin's earlier suspicion formed into certainty. "Mother. Have you been drinking?"  
  
“Don’t take that tone with me, young woman. I am still your mother!”  
Erin bristled, "My tone is fine, thank you very much. Do you know what time it is? Some of us have work tomorrow.”  
“Oh yes.” Rita said, “Work is so much more important than family. I sacrificed my life to raise you. The best years of my life, gone.  A dutiful daughter would support her mother in her hour of need, but not you.”  
"Just because I work does not mean I have cash to spare."  
  
Rita sniffled and there was the soft sound of drinking. “Boston is expensive. Come home, you would have much more money to share. We could all support the family together.”  
"No! I am not coming back and I financially supported that family for as long as I could. As you well know!"  
  
“Leave us poor then, you ungrateful wretch.”  
"Well mother if you are that poor, here's an idea. Get a job! I assure you it is very fashionable amongst people who want an income."  
“I don’t need a job. I need a decent daughter.”  
"What did you say? How much have you had to drink?"  
“Maybe I have had a little wine.” Rita replied haughtily.   
  
"A little wine? Do you mean three bottles or four? Or have you just stuck a straw into a box?" Erin tried to calm her breathing.

  
“So what if I’ve had a bit to drink. Nobody cares, certainly not you, and if I am drunk it’s all your fault. Abandoning me to loneliness and despair, so I have to turn to the bottle.”  
  
"It is NOT my fault you are drunk. I distinctly remember you getting completed hammered at my wedding. An event that you bullied me into against my better judgement."  
“I was only doing what was best for you. My mother, your grandmother payed an enormous amount so you could have the best wedding, but that was not good enough for you. You are too selfish.”  
"Well. If I am selfish, where did I learn that? There is no finer teacher than you. You should get paid for it."  
  
Rita sobbed, “Oh Erin. Please don’t drive a wedge between us. I’m sure you think you doing the right thing.” Rita’s tone became calculating, “Do you get along well with your boss? Does he like you?”

  
Erin was puzzled by the sudden shift in the conversation. “Yes, I get along with my boss. Why?”  
“Why Erin. The best way to get that pay rise is to provide him a more personal service. You’re no longer married.”

  
Erin’s month fell open. "No. That is disgusting."  
Rita snorted. “Oh don’t be so naive. Everyone does it. How do you think Helen made good at that law firm? More likely on her boss’s desk, than behind her own.”   
  
"Aunt Helen never did that. Your sister got to where she is through hard work. It’s probably not a term you know.” Erin’s face hardened. “If you think it’s such a good idea, maybe you are better suited to the oldest profession. Considering how fast you went through boyfriends I’m sure you will find the process familiar."  
  
“What do you mean?” Rita spluttered  
“Well mother.” Erin sneered into the phone, “If you so keen that someone puts out to improve their finances, you do it. You’ve kept you looks, I’m sure there is a whorehouse somewhere that would take you.”  
“You ungrateful wretch.” Rita shouted, “You don’t deserve to be my daughter. You are nothing but an ungrateful gold digger. I’m sorry I ever bore you.”  
  
Erin stood up and paced the floor. "So disown me, Moth … Rita. What do I lose? The drunken, midnight phone calls? The ongoing attempts to manipulate me? The poorly veiled demands for money? The suggestion that I sleep with my boss? Take them and go, Rita. I didn’t want them in the first place. You were never much at a mother anyway."  
  
Erin ended the call and threw her phone across the room.


	18. Hell Week Monday

The impact that woke Erin threw her from the bed. Her first awake realisation was the approaching floor. Sitting up she gently tested her teeth and nose both of which felt broken. “Ow! My face” she said.

Do we even get earthquakes in Boston? She wondered.

Opening a window that looked over the street, as far as their security bars would allow, she looked down to see a delivery truck embedded in the wall beneath her. The people standing around seemed uncertain as what to do.  The open window let in the wet cold of the threatening sky and the reek of roses. So strong that it made Erin gag.

Erin hurried to the bathroom mirror to check the damage to her face. A bruise was already forming under her left eye. Additional care and attention with makeup was required to cover it.

When Erin attempted to leave the building she found the stairs for her flat opened onto the street exactly where the truck has struck the building. The way out was to climb in through the cab and out the other side. She missed her train.

Sitting at her desk Erin logged in to her email to find her inbox was empty. She frowned and consulted “the Bible” of procedures. She followed the instructions to open her bosses email. His inbox and all of the files were empty. Biting her lower lip she looked up and saw similar expressions on the other people in her office. She called out to Anne. “Have you got any emails?”

Anne shook her head. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

Michelle joined in. “I don't have any emails either.”

A general chorus around the office indicated that no one had any emails. Erin’s boss burst out of his office, “Erin. Do you have my emails?”

Erin rose to her feet, “Sorry Mr. Stojoski. All of the emails are gone.”

“They can’t be gone. I need those Emails. Find them or find someone to find them.” he said as he returned to his office, “And hurry.”

Erin opened the intranet directory and discovered that, according to the online phone list, no one worked at Boston Products. Referring to the printed phone list in ‘The Bible’ Erin looked for a name she recognised. Brett. She dialled and waited, looking around at the anxious faces that watched her. She shook her head. “No one answered.”

Mr. Stojoski appeared at his office door, “Erin. Where are those emails?”

“I’ve called Brett at I.T, but no one answered”

“Erin. I need today’s emails. I don’t care how you get them, I just need them.” His hands clenched. “Now Erin.”

Erin stood, “Yes Sir”, and headed for the door.

I.T was in a part of the building that she had never visited, so it took some time to find. What she found was frantic chaos. People were gathered around desks or staring at blinking lights on boxes in racks. Four people were on cell phones..

Erin stood at the door, trying to see someone she knew who was not engrossed in a conversation. Darren raced passed and seeing Erin stopped.

“Erin. This is not a good time.”

“Darren. My boss wants his emails back.”

Darren snorted. “Everyone wants their emails back.” He pointed to a large box with a myriad of flashing lights, “All the emails are in there, but for some reason it is sulking and won’t talk to anyone.”

“Darren”, Brett shouted, “I want you to give me a network update. Talk to the pretty girls in your own time.”

Erin took the interruption as an opportunity. She approached Brett, “Sir? Do you have anything I can tell my boss? He needs his emails.”

Brett gritted his teeth and sucked a hissing breath passed them. With some effort he calmed himself, “Erin? It’s Erin isn’t it?” Erin nodded.

Brett sighed, “Alright you can be our messenger. Tell them,” Brett looked around the frantic office, “Tell them we know there is a problem. We are working on it, and we will have it fixed faster if they leave us to fix it. Tell them that.”

Someone hunched of a computer shouted “I’m in!” and Erin was deserted as everyone gathered around the desk.

“Is it bad?”

“What do you see?”

The young woman, who Erin recognised as Sophie from Brett’s party, sat back in resignation and gestured to the screen. “Look, Nothing but hardware faults. That router has shot itself.”

“Can a hard restart help?” someone asked.

Darren pushed through the crowd to stare at the screen, “Already tried that. I don’t think this would respond to a séance. How soon can we get it swapped out?”

A man with a cell phone to his ear said, “They have a spare, but it’s in New York.”

Brett looked up, “Well get it here. It’s no use to me in New York.”

After a brief conversation on the phone the man said, “They can have it here tomorrow.”

“No” Bret said, “They can jump in their car and drive it up here themselves.  Tell them if I don’t see that replacement by lunchtime its penalty clauses till Christmas!”

Sophie leaned back in the chair, “Brett, it is a four hour drive.”

Brett threw his hands up in the air, “Alright” he turned to the man arranging the replacement, “Four hours.” Brett saw Erin still standing in the doorway, “Four Hours. No five hours.” he said to her, “Go tell them that.”

Erin weighed up the risk from the frustrated man before her and her boss who was the only thing between her and sleeping on the street. She pointed to the stack of blinking lights, “The emails are in there. Right?”

Brett shrugged, “Technically”

“Could we attach a computer to that and get the emails out?”

The room had gone silent.

“Could we?” Brett turned to ask the room.

“Maybe.” Sophie said, “It would take some time to set up”

“Do you have anything else to do for the next four hours?” Erin asked.

Someone unplugged a laptop while Darren sorted through an untidy pile of cables.

Brett turned back to Erin. “Do you have and background in I.T?”

Erin thought about building the catalogue computer for the community library. “No.” she replied. With two cables, a converter and some very heated arguments the laptop was persuaded to talk to the emails. A printer that someone found in a cupboard was pressed in to service and half an hour later Erin left with a stack of printed emails.

Erin’s moment of ingenuity was rewarded by having to run as email message courier. Every time someone thought they should have an email Erin was sent to check. Phone calls to IT only played a short recorded message acknowledging the problem and then disconnected. By lunch time Erin wished she had not suggested the idea. Due to the lack of email all the personal assistants were worked hard, ringing through messages that ordinarily would have been emailed.

At lunch Mr. Stojoski and the other managers combined and sent Erin and Asha to buy lunch for the staff. The relief was as much the change from the message running as the free lunch. The delivery truck debacle had prevented Erin from preparing anything. 

“What do you think we should get?” Asha asked.

Erin shrugged, “Pizza is a good choice. Lots of variety and the boxes are easy to carry. What do you think?”

Asha looked around, “Pizza is a bit ordinary when we have the bosses paying. There is a good Indian restaurant around here somewhere.” Asha laughed, “You should see this guy behind us. Seriously who wears a gold bow tie?”

A chill raced up Erin’s spine. Turning she looked over her shoulder. Twenty yards behind her was Jason. Erin grabbed Asha’s arm and pulled her into the nearest doorway. A print and copy shop.  Asha stared at Erin in amazement as Erin couched and hid behind a display. Jason walked past without glancing in.

“What?” Asha asked as the print shop staff stared at Erin.

“That’s Jason.”, Erin hissed.  “Jason. You know? Bad date number two. Angels. Marriage proposal?” Erin peered around the display. “Let’s get food and get back to the office. Please”

Asha nodded, “Are you OK? I can do this on my own, if you  ...”

Erin clung to Asha’s arm. “No. Please don’t leave me alone.”

Asha patted Erin’s hand, “I won’t. It will be alright. Come on, let’s go”

Asha and Erin made their way to the Indian restaurant with Asha taking the lead. Erin continually glanced over her shoulder. She could feel Jason’s eyes on her back even though she knew he had gone.

Back at the office Erin could barely eat. The thought at Jason stalking her chilled her. How had he found her? Her stomach knotted at the thought of food. When someone opened the crab curry Erin ran to the toilet and threw up.  She was still hunched over the toilet when she heard someone behind her. She flinched.

Michelle crouched beside Erin, “Honey. What happened? What’s going on?”

Erin took a deep breath. Given her position next to the toilet it was a poor choice and she retched into the bowl again.

Taking Erin’s arm Michelle helped her stand. “Come on. Rinse your mouth out.”. Anne came in and they both guided Erin to the sink.

Michelle and Anne sat with Erin in a small meeting room as Erin regained her composure. Michelle refilled Erin's water. "Tell us what happened. Asha said you recognised someone on the street."

Erin drank another mouthful of water. "I totally overreacted and I'm really embarrassed. When Asha and I were getting lunch, we saw Jason on the street behind us and I panicked. I thought he was following me."

"Was he following you?" Anne asked.

Erin shook her head, "I don't think so now. He did not look at me when he walked past." Erin looked at the table. "I sort of hid in a shop.''

Anne frowned. "This is Mr Angels, Right? Didn't you consider him pretty harmless?"

Erin ran her fingers through her hair "Yes I did. I just panicked for some reason. I'm fine now. I'm even hungry."

"That might be a problem. I think even thing got eaten." Michelle said as she stood. "I'll check."

Anne studied Erin and Anne's frown deepened as she raised her fingers to Erin's face, "Has some one hit you?"

"No. I fall out of bed this morning. A truck crashed into my building and I was thrown out of bed onto the floor."

"I'm going to believe you because you'd make a more convincing lie."

Michelle returned carrying a plaster container of rice, "This is all Monica was able to save."

"Thanks" said Erin taking the bowl, "It will be plenty."

"You better hurry. Lunch is over and Management stress levels are on the rise."

Ern returned to her desk to find her boss, Mr Stojoski, waiting for her. "I heard you were unwell. Is everything ok?"

"Yes Mr Stojoski."

"Good. Excellent work this morning, but now the emails are back I need you to go through them." He placed a hand written page on Erin's desk, "These are the names of people I'm expecting correspondence from."

Because Erin’s work had started after lunch, it was late when she finally left the office and the weather had turned bitter.


	19. Monday night is no better

Erin trudged home from the T. She had been on her feet most of the day and was exhausted. There had been no seat on the train home and the weather had turned bitterly cold and wet. Trudging through the sleet that slashed at her she could see the delivery truck still embedded in the wall at her home. Further details were obscured by a particularly vicious squall that drove ice water down the back of her neck. _Only five minutes more and I'll be in a hot shower_ she thought. Someone had put coloured tape at waist height around the truck but Erin was too tired to consider its meaning. She lifted the tape and stepped under it. Only then was she aware of other people as they shouted and ran towards her. Erin blinked away the rain and her tiredness. People? Uniforms? Guns? Police. These thoughts pushed their way through Erin's mental fog.

"What the hell are you doing?” A woman shouted.

Staring up in to an angry police woman's face Erin asked, "May I help you?"

"What do you think you are doing?" the Police woman asked again.

Erin could feel the promise of her hot shower slipping away. "I'm going home."

The police woman sighed, "When is your home, Ma'am?”

Erin pointed to the window above them, causing a stream of ice water to run down into Erin’s armpit. "I live up there."

"Well go to the other entrance.  This is a crime scene."

Erin frowned and started to shiver. "What other entrance? This is the only way in."

"If this is the only way in, how did you get out this morning?"

"I climbed through the truck."

The police woman's eyes widened. "You Climbed ... what?" Pointing at the door at the truck cabin the police woman asked," Did you climb through there?"

The tiredness, the cold, the frustration and now the interrogation was too much and Erin started to cry. "I was running late, and my face hurt, and the door was smashed open and I didn't know it was wrong and I needed to get to work."

"Alright Ma'am. You'll have to come with me."  The police woman led Erin around the street corner and to a police bus. The police man seated inside the bus at a small desk looked up surprised as they entered.

The police woman guided the shivering Erin into a seat. "Larry. Are forensics still here?"

Larry shook his head," No. They left about an hour ago. Why?"

Gesturing to Erin. “Call them back. This is the upstairs occupant. She climbed through the damn truck this morning. She will need printing."

"They are going to be pissed"

The police woman leaned over the desk towards Larry." Tell me, Larry. Do I look happy?"

Reaching for the microphone of his radio he replied, "No Sergeant. You don't look happy."

Erin only realised she had been as sleep when she was woken by being wrapped in an aluminium safety blanket.

 _Now I'll keep fresh in the refrigerator_ she thought before being fully awake.

"You were shivering in your sleep" Larry said. "I've made you some hot chocolate."

Erin clasped the cup emblazoned with the logo of the Boston police force and tried to absorb as much heat as possible. "Thank you."

"Forensics will be here in about five minutes.  They will take your finger prints and then you will be able to leave. "

Erin pressed the hot mug to her cheek.

“Ma’am, I’ll need to take a statement from you.”

“Erin. My name is Erin.”

“Alright Erin. Tell me about this morning.”

Erin spoke and Larry wrote. Two new police officers arrived just as Larry was putting the finishing touches to his notes. “Read this through and then sign it.” Larry said.

One of the new officers had a box that reminded Erin of a sewing box. From this he removed a mat, paper and things Erin could not immediately identify. Erin read and signed the document Larry had written.

“Ma’am. Have you ever been fingerprinted before?” one of new arrivals asked.

Erin felt she should be offended, but was too tired to be angry, “No. Never needed to be.”

The officer nodded, “It is really very straight forward. I’ll need to take you hand.”

Erin put down her hot chocolate and held out her hands.

The process was simple, straight forward and messy. The paper towels and alcohol wipes were only partially successful in cleaning Erin’s fingers.

As he packed away the finger printing equipment the officer said, “That should be all. Someone here will give you a contact number. If you have any further questions, call them.”

“You have very gentle hands.” Erin commented only partially awake.

“Thank you Ma’am. That’s what my wife says.”

With the forensics officers gone, Larry handed Erin a card. “Here’s the number they meant. Any questions, call that number. Now you need to go somewhere. I think there is a motel close by.”

Erin blinked. Motels took money, of which she had almost none. Seeing her hesitation, Larry added, “Do you have a friend you can call?”

 _Daria, Jane, Anne, Michelle_. Erin smiled at the thought of having friends. Erin dug through her hand bag looking for her cell phone, the search became more frantic. _Where is my phone?_ Finally emptying her bag onto Larry’s desk Erin scrabbled through to contents.

No Phone.

Erin remembered her mother’s phone call, throwing the phone and going to bed. Erin’s phone was in Erin’s apartment and just as inaccessible.

“You can’t stay here, Erin.” Larry gently reminded.

Erin scraped her belongings back into her bag, “Where is that motel?”

Larry described the route to the motel and Erin left the warmth of the Police bus and began to walk. Eventually Erin realised that she had not followed Larry’s directions when she looked up and found herself at the entrance of G-Bar. Out of options she descended the stairs.

G-Bar seemed different now that it was empty. No people, no music. A  thump indicated someone was in the rooms behind the bar.

“Hello”, Erin called out tentatively.

Gregor appeared behind the Bar, “Sorry Ducks. We are closed.” Gregor came around from behind the bar and approached Erin. “Erin? What is Gregor’s third favourite straight girl doing here at this time?”

Erin looked up at Gregor, her damp hair clinging to her face. “I’m locked out.”

Over another hot chocolate, This one with a good deal more rum than the police offering, Erin retold her story to Gregor. The bartender nodded sympathetically and patted her shoulder as he listened.

“And now I need to find a cheap motel.” Erin concluded.

Gregor shook his head, “Gregor’s Erin shall not go the any cheap motel.” Standing up suddenly, he took Erin’s hand, “Follow Gregor!”


	20. So many questions

Erin woke tired. The bed was narrow; the room was dark and small and neither room nor bed was hers. She experienced a few moments of disorientation before yesterday’s memory returned. She was in the spare bed in the G-bar and she was wearing Gregor's reserve pyjamas. Erin shied away from thinking why Gregor had pyjamas at his work and was just grateful for his generosity. After some fumbling, Erin found the light switch, the single bare bulb throwing harsh light and hard shadows into the room, illuminating a single bed and a three-legged stool on which Erin's handbag sat. What the room did not contain was Erin’s clothes. The pyjamas she wore were far too large, the legs of the drawstring pants covered her feet, the pyjama top slipped off one shoulder or, if perfectly centred, off both. Remembering that her watch was in her handbag, she checked the time - At least she was not running late. Opening the door Erin found herself in a corridor that ran from a large store room to behind the bar. In the light of the exit signs the bar seemed large and alien. The rattle of chains and the squeak of a door filled the silence and with a deep almost musical hum the lights came on. Gregor appeared from a door Erin had yet to investigate. Gregor was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt so bright and intricate that Erin's vision blurred trying to make sense of the pattern. His ensemble was completed by a pair of purple three-quarter jeans and pink high heel ladies dance pumps.

"Ah ha! Erin. How is Gregor's third favourite straight girl? Did she sleep well? Is she rested'?"

Erin smiled. "Yes Gregor. The Erin is very grateful."

Gregor clapped his hands and laughed." The Erin must keep poor Gregor's secret. What would people say it they knew Gregor had a _girl_ in his bed?" Gregor clapped his hands to his cheeks in mock horror. "Oh, the shame."

Tugging the oversized shirt back on to her shoulders, Erin said, "They would say Gregor is a gentleman.''

“The Erin must be hungry. Fortunately, Gregor has brought breakfast."

Gregor disappeared back through the door and returned with several shopping bags from which he produced Erin's clean clothes, a large hot leek and onion flan and two large coffees. Erin looked from the takeaway coffees to the large coffee machine on the bar. Gregor followed her gaze. "It is a mystery, NO? To make coffee Gregor must open the bar, but to open the bar Gregor must be fortified by coffee." The aroma of breakfast drew Erin's attention.  "Gregor," Erin asked,” where did you get the flan? None at the bakeries I know sell anything like that."

Gregor smiled and looked mysterious, “Gregor is in the industry, Gregor knows industry people."

#

Erin lifted her coffee cup hopefully to her lips and confirming it was empty, sighed.

Gregor shrugged, "All good things come to an end, even coffee. Now that Gregor has coaxed The Erin awake, Gregor must now coax the G-Bar awake. The Erin will find a shower at the end of that hall. Go, be clean."

Erin found the shower to be cramped and surprisingly spotless. Using a towel she found on a shelf, Erin dried and then dressed. Fortunately, the bruise under her eye had faded sufficiently not to require extensive makeup and what makeup she had covered any evidence of the previous days fall. As she left the bar, Gregor kissed her on both cheeks and pressed a paper bag into Erin's hands. Aroma suggested the bag contained the remains the flan.

Arriving at work earlier than usual, Erin had the office to herself. Holding her breath, she checked her email. "Yes!” She whispered as her inbox filled with the expected email. Anne, Michelle and Monica arrived together chatting about the previous day's freak weather. Anne and Michelle went to Erin, while Monica went to the kitchen.

"Feeling better today? I rang you last night but you didn’t answer." Anne said.

Michelle frowned," Did you decided against a change of clothes?"

"It's complicated" Erin replied," Let’s just say that I'm locked out of my apartment and my phone is inside."

"How are you going to get in tonight?" Anne asked.

"Where did you sleep last night?” asked Michelle

Erin saw Mr Stojoski arrive. She looked at her two friends standing at her desk "Can we talk about this later? At Lunch?"

Anne and Michelle nodded and Went to their desks. Erin stood as Mr Stojoski approached, "Your emails are in this morning."

Erin's boss slowed slightly as he passed her, "Good. And good work yesterday. Hopefully the rest of the week will be ordinary."

 

The morning stayed ordinary till almost lunchtime when the police arrived.

Two officers arrived asking for Erin and Erin was able to guide them into an unoccupied office. "Can I get you coffee or water?" Erin asked assuming her hostess role. "I guess this is about my apartment last night."

"Your apartment?" one at the officers queried.

Erin stopped halfway to the glasses on a side cabinet. "Yes, my apartment being ... off limits last night"

The constable shook his head," Sorry Ma'am. We know nothing about your apartment. Our visit relates to your relationship with a Mister Brian Danielson. We have a few questions."

Erin looked from one officer to the other. "Brian? I divorced Brian.”

One of the officers produced a notebook and pen. “We are aware of your recent separation. Have you been in contact with Mr Danielson recently? Has he made any attempt to contact you?”

“No, I divorced Brian. He is only supposed to talk to my lawyer. What’s this all about?”

Erin wondered what fool thing Brian had done now and the irritation that Brian had always caused in her life began to rise again. _Would she ever be rid of him_?

“So, you have not heard from, or been in contact with Mr Danielson?”

Erin shook her head. “I have already answered that. I have not spoken with him since before I left Virginia.” Erin put her hands on her hips, “ I need to know what is going on. What the hell has that idiot done this time?”

The officer took a few extra notes and handed Erin a card. “I’m afraid we are not able to give you any information at this point. If Brian does contact you, please inform us immediately.”

Taking the card, Erin nodded.

“We will be in touch, Ma’am. We’ll see ourselves out.”

 

At lunch Erin and her friends headed towards their favourite café only to be intercepted in the foyer by Alice Wintergrove. The older woman blocked their path as the exited the elevators.

“Erin Chambers, “Alice said loudly, “I do hope that the failures in your personal life do not bring further Police intrusions into this fine establishment.” Alice’s gaze drifted across the group, “I see you have associated with people of similar …. quality. Regardless the Honour and Glory of Boston Products must not be tarnished by sordid goings on. Be assured, I am watching you.” Before Erin could reply Alice was gone, sweeping into a departing elevator. Erin thought the other occupants of the lift looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Michelle placed her hand on Erin’s shoulder, “Come on Erin. We’ll buy you lunch.”

Anne added, “I know this restaurant.”

The restaurant they chose was one of Anne’s favourites. Down a small alley off the main street, it was surprisingly packed for a place that was difficult to find.

No two tables were the same and the chairs reminded Erin of furniture from early 1960’s comedies. The wall decorations were a mix of dusty travel posters and signed photos. The clientele were as eclectic as the furniture. Executives in suits and tradesmen in high viz vests rubbing shoulders with shop assistants in their store uniforms.

Over lunch, Erin explained the difficulties of last night and of Gregor's kindness, remembering that she had the better portion of a flan in the office fridge.

"I like this Gregor." Michelle said, "And you can stay with me till this is sorted out."

Anne sipped her tea, "I still can't get over the fact that you have been going to gay bars and not telling us. Do you have any other secrets? "

Erin smiled and shook her head.  "It's just one bar I went into by mistake, and people there don't constantly interrogate me."

Michelle laughed and her response was interrupted by the arrival of their ordered food.  The smell from Anne’s Honey Chicken overwhelmed the table.

“Damn you Anne. Now my mouth will expect Honey chicken, and it’s going to be surprised by my Mongolian Beef.” Michelle complained.

As long as it is pleasantly surprised,” Erin said, “Then there is no problem.” Erin dug into her Sweet and Sour pork, “You know this reminds me of the food near school. We used to sneak out and go to the local food strip. There was this run-down Chinese restaurant, cheap tables, plastic table cloths, but the food was out of this world. It was called Good Time Chinese. Apparently, they exist everywhere.”

Conversation stopped while they ate from their respective meals. Once frantic hunger was assuaged, Erin asked, “Where is Asha?”

Erin’s companions stopped eating and the silence hung ominously over the table. Finally, Michelle said to Anne, “Look. Erin can keep a secret. I think she needs to know.”

Anne shrugged, “Well you all but told her, you may as well finish.”

Michelle turned to Erin, “Now Erin, you have to swear to keep what I tell you a secret.”

Erin looked around at the crowded restaurant and said, “Sure. I promise”

Michelle nodded her acceptance, “Asha has a problem. Particularly she has a problem with Drinking. She has a dr… “Michelle stopped as a waitress went past.

“She has a drinking problem. She is in short term re-hab in hospital.” Michelle looked at the table. “Zoe can usually keep her on track, but with Zoe being away … well.”

Anne added “Monica tries to cover for her, but after Monday, no one had any free time. Asha does not cope with stress well.”

Erin thought back on her last phone call with her Mother. Her mother did not cope with stress well. Erin was feeling compassion for a workmate she had not known six months, yet she had abused her mother over the phone. Erin sunk her head into her hands.

Michelle put her hand on Erin’s shoulder, “She’ll be Okay. She has pulled through before.”

Erin sighed and wondered if Michelle’s words also applied to Rita. Did any of her cook books have a recipe for humble pie? Still Mother started it. She should apologise first.

After lunch Erin settled into her work determined to reclaim the day, so she could not suppress the sigh of disappointment as she saw Alice Wintergrove lead Officer Larry over towards Erin's desk. Erin stood as they approached, noting Alice Wintergrove's spiteful smugness. What concerned Erin more was the troubled look on the Police officer's face. He did not look like a man bearing good news.

Alia Winter grove stopped face to face with Erin. Much closer than Erin found comfortable. "Perhaps I did not make myself clear when we spoke earlier," the older Woman’s voice was a low hiss. "If you think for one moment, I will permit..."

"Ms Wintergrove''. Mr Stojoski interrupted from the door way of his office. " So good that I have caught you. A moment of your time in my office?"

Alice gave Erin a vicious glance before composing her features and entering the office at Erin's boss. Regardless of her mother's telephoned advice Erin could have kissed her boss for the rescue.

Officer Larry looked embarrassed. "Sorry. She was the first person I met in the lobby. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

Erin led him to the small meeting room and poured two glasses of water, before she asked, "Is this about Brian?"

"Brian? Brian who." Larry looked confused.

"Okay, Forget Brian" Erin said "God knows I'm trying to." Squaring her shoulders, she asked, "How may I help you?"

Larry sat and gestured for Erin to sit. He sipped his water, "I've come about your Apartment, "

Erin relaxed. Hopefully she could return there tonight.

 "When I went to talk to the agent you claimed to rent the apartment from." Larry took another sip at water. "They have no record of you renting that place. In fact, they have no record at you at all."

"What!" Erin left to her feet, "That is my place. I live there. They are happy enough to take my money. Wait here!" Erin almost ran to her desk, grabbed her bag and raced back to the startled police officer. Erin produced her key ring and defiantly displayed her front door key. "See. See. I have the key. I live there!"

Larry gestured for Erin to sit. "Yes. A key is good. But paperwork would be better. Do you have your copy at the rental contract?"

Erin tried to remember moving in day. Daria and Jane and the other girl, Karen? and some boyfriends. Erin's recollection was derailed by the thought. _Daria has a boyfriend_. Shaking her head Erin concentrated. There was someone with keys, A woman, about Erin's age, pale skin, black curly hair. Erin looked to Larry. "A woman with black curly hair."

Larry checked his notebook, "That would be Sian. She has left the organisation under a cloud."

"The contract will be in my apartment, as will records of my payments, But I guess I can't get to it because at the moment it's your crime scene!" Erin could feel her temper Rising, she knew it was unfair. Larry had brought her hot chocolate when she was cold. With a strength of will 'Erin brought her temper under her control.

"Sorry Larry. If you can get me into my apartment, I can find the contract."

Larry smiled “I have a car out the front. I can drive you there now,"

"Larry I'm at work. I can't just waltz out"

"It's called _Helping The Police With Their Enquiries_."

Erin founded "Isn't that a euphemism for being arrested? “

Larry stood." It doesn't have to be."

Erin approached Mr Stojoski’s office with the dual anxiety of needing to ask for immediate time off and this was the last place she had seen Alice Wintergrove.  Dennis was in his office alone, “Come in Erin.”

Erin entered the office as little as possible, “Sir?”

“Please shut the door Erin.” Dennis Stojoski gestured to a seat, “The police will wait.”

Erin heart began it subterranean journey to hell. She sat and waited.

Dennis smiled, “Erin. Is there some difficulty? Some trouble that you may be currently experiencing?”

Hundreds of answers flashed through Erin’s mind.

_Admit she was having problems: No, she’d sound like a liability and he’d sack her._

_Lie: No. She’d get caught, then she would have to admit she was having problems and be a liar, so  he’d sack her._

_Blame Brian: Tempting, but it was a lie and she’d get caught, so he’s sack her._

_Throw herself bodily out the window: No. She only worked on the second floor so she would only break her legs and in the pain, she would admin t=she was having problems and she’d sound like a liability and he’d sack her. And she would have broken legs._

Erin remembered he grandmother saying _When pressed admit as little as possible._ Erin cleared her throat, “A truck crashed into my building yesterday and I have been helping the Police.”  Erin sat waiting to see if doom would befall her.

Mr Stojoski’s chair creaked as he shifted, “Erin. That sounds terrible. I need you to organise a meeting for Thursday, but you can do that tomorrow. Take the rest of the day off, go and get your place sorted out.”

Erin stood, pleased she was still employed. “Thank you, Sir. You won’t regret this Sir.”

Mr Stojoski gestured for Erin to leave, “Oh, and one more thing. If you have further troubles, tell me. I can’t help, if I don’t know.”

Erin hastily departed the office, quickly grabbed her bags and hurried to where Officer Larry was waiting. She did not even wave to her friends as she departed.

Erin’s first ride in a police car was surprisingly boring. Larry drove with careful precision and focus. This did not include a running commentary. Erin did envy his ability to park where he liked, but did not feel it was appropriate to say anything.

Erin and Larry arrived in time to see a large tow truck pull the delivery van put of the wall.

“Do you want to take bets on the building falling down? Some of these old ones do.” Larry asked as the watched from the far side of the road.

“No thanks.” Erin replied nervously watching the building.

Other that a few dislodged bricks, the structure Erin called home stood.

They both watched for a few minutes more as the Delivery Truck was finally towed away.

“Well. Let’s see what’s left, “Larry said.

A quick inspection showed the outer door and the surrounding frame was gone. Beyond the now gaping portal the stairs up to Erin’s apartment looked sound, if dusty. Larry led the way to Erin’s Apartment door. Erin made a show of the key, and then opened the door with a flourish. “You are to ignore any mess you might see.”

Larry grinned, “Sorry Erin. I am a highly trained investigator, nothing escapes my observation.”  Larry then mimed walking into the door frame.

Erin looked around the apartment. Everything was where it should be. Erin smelt nothing she would be embarrassed about. Larry stood in the centre of the small room and watched as Erin searched. Rifling through the bottom draw in the kitchen she found the contract and payment receipts.

“Here!” Erin shouted, waving the papers in the air. “Found them.”

Larry took a quick look, “Seem in order”.

While Larry looked at the papers Erin found her phone. Flat, as expected.

The drive to the rental agent was quick and once again Erin marvelled at the ease of parking.

Once inside the agent’s offices all sense of ease vanished. Erin recognised administrative chaos when she saw it. People’s expressions were panicked. Every flat surface were covered with files, People were checking files against check lists, Checklist against files, Files against each other, and there were more police here as well. Police in suits.

Larry and one of the suited police offers conferred in muted whispers. They both glanced at Erin and then returned to their conversation. Larry returned to Erin.

“Erin. Do you have you credit card and bank details with you?” Larry asked.

“Yes. They are all in this folder.” Erin held out her folder as exhibit A. “Why?”

Larry looked around at the chaos. “It seems that Sian, not only left in disgrace. She also left with many of the customer’s bank details and the withdrawal authorities. She has been skimming customers’ accounts.”

Erin’s mouth dropped open. “What? No! She can’t. I need that money.”

Flicking through the papers in her file, Erin found her bank statements. With the experienced hand she quickly scanned the documents.

“Nothing out of order. I have receipts for the rent and they match my bank account.”

A woman approached, “Excuse me. Are you Erin Chambers?”

Erin nodded, “Yes.”

“May I have a look at your contract and the receipts?”

 Erin handed them over and the woman studied them closely. Erin watched the colour drain out of the woman’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Erin asked.

The woman looked up, “You have been paying your rent alright. But this account is not one of ours.”

An older man, who Erin guessed was the Manager, ran to Erin’s side. “Mason Waters, “ He introduced himself, before grabbing Erin’s statements from the woman’s hands. He sighed and his posture slumped, “Barbra, take a copy of those accounts. Add it to the list”

Erin looked around and saw women and a few men on the verge of tears.

Larry returned from a conversation with the agencies manager. “Come on Erin. You can go home. It might take some time before they can get your door fixed. “

“What about the rent?”

Barbara returned Erin’s paper work. “You’ll be fine. I’ll have taken a copy of you lease and payments. We’ll just have to hope we can get that money back from that bitch.”

Larry led Erin back to the police car. Erin was too exhausted to talk, and Larry was not inclined to do so.

Returning to her apartment for the second time that night, Erin locked the door and then fell onto the bed. Only then did she remember she had not eaten.  A meal of hot oats and honey was sufficient and Erin went to bed.


	21. Stalked?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people wont take no for an answer

Erin was back into the office early. She wanted to show Mr Stojoski his faith in her was well placed. Waking in her own bed, in her own place, had been rejuvenating and given Erin a bright start to the day.

Emails were where she expected them to be, but she could find no reference to the meeting her boss had talked about. Showing initiative Erin entered her boss’s office and searched through his Urgent Folder. Erin thought her boss had many fine qualities, but under pressure he reverted to the habits he had formed years ago. This included putting very important documents into folders and then locking them in his desk. Good for security, hell on personal assistant efficiency. Erin had tried typing these notes and scraps of paper into Boston Products Document Management System, but Mr Stojoski would update the paper note without telling her, so she eventually gave up.

Using keys to her boss’s office and the locked filing cabinets inside, Erin found the relevant document in a file labelled ‘Other Important Things’, copied the document and began preparing for the meeting. This was the first time Erin had completed a meeting room booking on her own, but as the meeting was small, only five people, and after work hours, Erin had no difficulty arranging a ground floor room. She decided to handle the catering herself out of petty cash.

Erin answered her phone cheerfully. “You have reached Boston Products. You are speaking with Erin Chambers. How may I direct your call?”

On the other end of the line Mr Stojoski sounded surprised, “Erin?”

‘Yes, Sir.”

“Did you get you apartment issues fixed?”

“I have a few calls to make today, but everything is good, Sir.”

“I’ll be in mid-morning. I’ll see you then.”

Erin made a note on her desk pad, “Mid-morning.”

Erin phoned the five invitees and confirmed with follow up emails and still had time to make hot chocolate and start the Coffee Machine. While sipping her hot chocolate, Erin realised she had not been aware at the cold since the sleet storm. By the time Anne, Michelle and Monica strolled in Erin felt she had control at the day.

Anne went straight to the kitchen. Michelle and Monica dropped their bags on their desks and came over to Erin.

"Still sleeping under a bridge?" Monica asked.

"I was able to go home last night." Erin replied

"But whose home? All those men in uniform chasing after you." Michelle asked.

Erin rolled her eyes. "In my own bed, in my own home, on my own."

Michelle asked "And your Phone is fully charged?"

Erin frowned at the edge she heard in Michelle's question, '"Yes it Was fully charged this morning."

"Good", Michelle snapped, "Maybe then you could call the people who offered you somewhere to stay and who waited around for you last night? Do you think you could do this?"

Erin's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh God. Michelle! I'm so sorry. You waited behind?" Erin reached out for her friend's hand but Michelle pulled it out of Erin's reach.

"I'm angry with you. Yes. I waited. And I called. And I worried. I even rang the police and the local hospitals".

Monica had edged away and gestured to Anne as she came out of the kitchen. Anne put her coffee on her desk and strode to behind Michelle, as Monica shook her head in alarm.

Tears welled in Erin's eyes matching the wet shine in Michelle's eyes. "I never meant to worry you. I got so caught up at...."

"Well I did worry. I didn’t know what had happened to you. Last I heard you were locked out, and you left in such a hurry. Would it have killed you to just ...?"

Michelle suddenly lurched forward, tripping into Erin's arms as Erin tried to catch her falling friend. Anne stood behind Michelle, her hands still out stretched from the shove she had just given Michelle.

"Hug. Make up. Get over it" Anne instructed. "If I catch either of you sulking, you will be in trouble."

Erin and Michelle struggled to untangle themselves.

Anne pointed at Erin. "You. Apologise.”

"I'm so sorry, Michelle." Erin said

Anne pointed to Michelle, “You. Accept"

Michelle hesitated a moment. "Apology accepted". Michelle tightened the hug slightly, "I was frightened."

Erin was stunned. She was not sure what to say. Erin heard her grandmother's voice, "When in doubt, say Thank you"

Erin squeezed back, "Thank you, Michelle".

"I said make up, not make out.” Anne said as she returned to her desk.

Erin laughed and, wiped her eyes, Michelle smiled. After a slightly awkward silence they returned to their desks.

Mr Stojoski stopped Erin's desk as he arrived. "Erin is tomorrow’s meeting organised?"

"Yes, Sir. It's all set up. I..."

"Good. Good. I knew I can rely on you.". Mr Stojoski said as he headed into his office.

Mid-morning Mr Stojoski emerged from his office. He pressed $50 dollars into Erin's hand. "Everyone has worked well over the last few days. Go buy everyone a coffee.”

Erin smiled and looked smugly around the office. This was the kind of boss she could be proud to serve. Michelle was busy on the phone and franticly taking notes on her computer. Monica had her phone to her ear while holding Asha’s phone in her other hand.  Walking past Anne, on the way to the lift, Erin asked, “Care to help me? There is a coffee in it for you.”

“You had me at coffee.” Anne replied grabbing her purse and coat.

Erin and Anne waited for their coffee. As it was a big order they had stepped outside the shop.

“No, you are missing the point Anne," Erin countered, “Recipes don’t restrict your creativity, they create a basis of what is known to work and you can improvise from there. Otherwise you would waste so much time and stuff, mixing things that should not be mixed”

“Like what?”

Erin looked around the coffee shop, her eyes settling on the drinks fridge. “Like Ginger Beer and Milk.”

Anne rolled her eyes, “If you are not going to be serious …”

“I am so serious. Marshmallows and sausages. The point is, recipes can be the basis of creativity while still keeping things edible!”

Anne snorted, “What if Ginger Beer and Milk are a great mix?”

“Then it is a recipe and I still win.” Erin replied with a flick of her hair.

The conversation stopped as Erin’s order was called. Passing the first tray of coffee to Anne, Erin attention was caught by a flash on the other side of the street. A man in a brown suit was taking photographs. The photographer lowered the camera. Wire rimed classes, brown suit, gold bowtie. Jason! Jason was taking photographs of her. Erin’s throat closed. Her heart thudded in her chest and her stomach clenched.

“Erin?” Anne asked concerned.

Erin could not answer. Jason raised the camera again. The lens seemed cavernous.

Erin fled.

Erin ran down the street, oblivious of the calls behind her. Her eyes blurred with tears.

Erin was vaguely aware of Anne calling to her. Anne's tone was imploring, the words meant nothing, only escape mattered.

Someone grabbed Erin’s arm from behind, spinning her around. Ineffectually Erin punched the unknown attacker. Anne, puffing from exhaustion, caught up.

The man who had grabbed Erin shouted at her, “You get back and pay for the coffee! Nobody makes a big order and then runs off.”

Erin stared uncomprehendingly at the angry man tears filling her eyes. The strength left her legs and Erin sank to the ground. _They caught me. I tried to escape but they caught me._

As Erin looked up at the man towering above her, a second figure entered her vision. Flushed faced and puffing, Anne pushed the man away from Erin.

“GET AWAY FROM MY FRIEND!” Anne screamed at the man. Waving what looked like a small, bright yellow, fire extinguisher, Anne shouted, “Leave her alone or you will eat so much bear spray your face will melt off.”

Erin terror and exhaustion melted away to be replaced by wonder and love. _Anne came after her. Someone loved her. She was not alone._

This moment of blissful revelation was just as quickly swept aside by shame and embarrassment. She was sitting on the sidewalk in the main street of Boston with two people and a can of bear spray glaring above her.

Anne thrust some money into the man’s face, “Here! If you had stopped and asked, we all could have avoided this. We will be back for our coffee and it better be good.”

The man snatched the money and stalked back up the street muttering. Anne looked at the gathering crowd, “It’s alright. She’s fine. Nothing to see here.”

“Should we call an ambulance?” someone asked.

Erin saw the forest of legs slowly dispersing and pushed herself back to her feet.

Anne was putting the can back in her purse, and turned to Erin, “Well you sure have a turn of speed. What spooked you this time? No. First. Are you okay?”

Erin tried to steady her breathing, willing her pulse to resume a normal rate. “I’m alright now. Sorry for … “ - Erin waved her hands as she sought words to describe an experience she did not fully understand - “for running. I saw Jason again. He was taking photographs of me.” Erin felt her chest tighten.

Anne looked around quickly, “Point him out and I’ll arrange a personal introduction to the Angel of Pain, curtesy of a Bear Spray Enema.”

“No. No. Just leave it. He is gone now anyway.” Erin took a deep breath and released it slowly.

Anne continued to scan the crowd, “Let’s go and get our coffee.”

#

Erin finished her coffee and sorted the files on her desk, determining which could be closed, when her phone rang. All at the phones rang, slightly out of unison. The cacophony filled the room. Erin picked up her phone but it continued to ring. Hanging up the phone, pressing buttons, nothing made any difference. The phones continued to ring.

Mr Stojoski poked his head out of his office "Erin?"

Erin lifted her phone handset above her head helplessly as the phones continued to ring.

Other managers appeared at their office doors as the phones filled the room with jangled sound. The sudden cessation of sound created an aural vacuum filled only by the slow tick of the old hand-wound, wall clock.

Erin placed the receiver to her ear. “Dead.” She announced.

Others copied Erin, shaking their heads.

Mr Stojoski said, “Erin. Please find …”

Every light went out, plunging the room into darkness. The filtered light from the few windows provided the only illumination.

In the dim silence the clock continued to tick. Slowly the emergency lights began to glow, casting an unearthly pallor over the scene. No one had moved. No one had spoken.

After a few moments, Mr Stojoski cleared his throat. “Well we can’t sit here in the dark. Company policy does not allow it. Gather your things and exit the building. Fire drill rules apply.”

Erin gathered at the evacuation point with the rest of her floor and had her head counted. The floor occupants further grouped by hierarchy. Erin looked from Michelle to Monica, “What do we do now?”

“Monica shrugged, “We are supposed to wait and not retire to the nearest wine bar. Some one important will make a decision and the floor warden will tell us what to do.”

Erin looked up and down the street where various floors had assembled.

Michell added, “We are getting paid just to stand about in the cold.”

Erin replied, “Has it been less cold lately?”

“You have just gotten used to it,” Michelle said, “But hang on to my sister’s thermals, it will get cold again.”

Anne joined them, “Word is in trying to fix the phones, some one shorted out the entire building.”

A woman in an ill fitting hard hat approached. Erin remembered her as Silvia, but other than being the floor warden and working in a different office on the same floor, Erin knew little about her.

Silvia checked the clip-board she carried before addressing the group. “We are to wait five more minutes for the restoration of power. If it is not back by then you will be sent home.”

Everyone checked their watches and then looked at the building.

Monica asked, “I left my bag in there. Can I go back and get it?”

Silvia sighed, “You will need to be accompanied by your floor warden. Me. So when everyone else has left, find me.”

Four minutes later a collective groan rose from the crowd as the lights in the Boston Products flickered to life.

Erin’s computer complained bitterly about the rude handling it had suffered and would not work properly until Luke from I.T had deleted and reinstalled something, muttering soft curses during the entire process.

Now with phones and email fully restored everyone in the office was worked to silence. When Erin took the day’s final files in for Mr Stojoski’s approval, she found he had already left. As he usually said goodbye Erin worried what his unannounced departure might mean.

When Erin arrived home a new door had been installed replacing the one the truck destroyed. Erin tried her key without much hope of it opening the new lock and to her surprise the door opened. An envelope bearing the leasing agents banner had been pushed under the door of her Studio Apartment.

_Dear Ms. Chambers,_

_Your door has been replaced and the rent monies you paid have been fully credited to your account._

_We apologise for any inconvenience and if you have any further questions please contact the office during business hours._

_Regards,_

_Mason Waters (Manager)_

Erin was too tired to prepare more than instant noodles and boiling water in a cup. As the meal cooled to eatable temperature, Erin stared at her phone.

_Should she call someone? Should someone call her?_

Placing her phone on the charger reawaken the guilt she felt for having not called Michelle. Judging it was too late to call, Erin sent Michelle a message, _Home Safe_. A little later a reply message caused the phone to chime.

_Thanks._

 


	22. A meeting gets bigger

Erin dragged herself from bed. Sleep had not been effective and Erin felt seedy. Orange juice and two headache pills were all the breakfast Erin could face. Habit pushed Erin through her morning rituals sufficiently to make her usual train. On the train Erin sipped her coffee, unsure if the drink was friend or foe. The coffee became more drinkable with each mouthful and the gentle and familiar movement of the train steadied Erin sufficiently to enter the office with a smile.

Waving at her co-workers Erin settled into her desk and began checking her emails. A few acknowledgements for this afternoon’s meeting were printed and filed as per Mr Stojoski’s preference. Erin noted her boss was not in his office though his coat and briefcase were. Erin checked her boss’s diary and there was no meeting scheduled for this morning. Erin returned to her desk perplexed.

Michelle wandered over and sat on Erin’s desk. “Your message last night meant a lot to me. I try not to fuss, but …” Michelle spread her hands in a helpless gesture.

Erin smiled up at her friend, “I have gotten out of the habit of having someone who cares for me.” Erin's mouth twisted into a smirk. “Now I'm thinking about it, this might be the first time someone has actually cared about me.”

Michelle's eyebrows shot up and Erin shrugged, “I may be being overly melodramatic.”

Michelle's look of surprise became mockingly excessive, “Erin, overdramatic? Call the press. Call the President!”

Erin waved her hands at Michelle in a shooing gesture, “Sit down or I'll call the men in white coats.”

Michelle laughed and returned to her desk.

Erin fielded several calls for Mr Stojoski before he arrived mid-morning. Erin thought he looked unusually stressed. Giving her boss a few minutes to get settled, Erin entered his office to find him already on the phone. Mr Stojoski waved in the direction of a chair so Erin sat and waited. Mr Stojoski sighed as he hung up the phone and rested his head in his hands for a few moments before regarding Erin. “Do you have any good news for me, Erin?”

Erin hesitated. She was not sure what constituted good news. Taking a deep breath, Erin updated her boss on the phone calls she had received and took notes as Mr Stojoski directed her to respond on his behalf.

“Tell me what you have set up for this evenings meeting.” Mr Stojoski instructed.

Erin flicked her note book to the appropriate page, “Everyone has confirmed. I will be arranging catering from one of the local cafes, and as the meeting is after business hours, I have booked the Columbus room. It has access from the foyer.”

Mr Stojoski frowned, “The Columbus room? But the room is tiny.”

Erin checked her notes, “There are only five attendees. The Columbus ...”

Her boss rose from his chair and loomed over the table. “Five? There better be more than five!” he snapped.

Erin produced her copy of the note she had taken from Mr Stojoski’s desk file and pointed to the name list. “See five. These Five. They have confirmed.”

Mr Stojoski ripped open his desk draw and pulled a number of folders from it. Rifling through them he produced several pages. His face flushed he thrust them at Erin. “Those are team leaders. Managers. Each one of them will be bringing at least ten people with them. How are you going to fit sixty people in a room that can barely hold a table?”

“Sir. I thought ...”

His face flushed, her boss shouted, “What you thought is irrelevant! You never checked with me? The success of this meeting is critical and now it is going to fail because of you.” He clenched his fists.

“Sir, I ...” Erin faltered under her boss's glare.

“Erin! You ruined it, you fix it.” Sitting back at his desk he pulled a small envelope from a drawer. Throwing the envelope at Erin he said, “This was going to be a reward for you excellent work. Now instead you can use it to try and dig us all out of the disaster you have dragged us into.”

Erin opened the envelope a remove a credit card. Proudly bearing the Boston Product's Logo and the name Erin Chambers. Erin looked up from the card, “A corporate credit card?”

“Yes,” her boss answered shortly. “Usually given to employees who have shown themselves to be of value to the organisation. In this case given to you and I expect it back tomorrow. It has a thousand dollars limit and no overdraw facility. Now go. I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear from you until you are telling me how you fixed this.” He checked his watch. “You have eight hours and I expect success and receipts.”

Erin looked at the card again. Standing she said, “Sir, I ...”

Mr Stojoski pointed at the door. Erin hastily departed.

Erin looked around for Zoe, but Zoe was not in. The other PA's looked at her with sympathy.  Erin slumped into her chair and considered taking the money and fleeing the country. She wallowed in self-pity for a few seconds, and then something hardened inside. _No! She was Erin Chambers and she was done running_. The Barksdale line was made of sterner stuff. Erin remembered her Grandmother stiffly denying there was anything wrong while hiding final demand letters and using one credit card to pay off another. _Or we are completely delusional,_ Erin thought.

 

Turning to a new page she wrote a list of what she needed.

  1. A Place for sixty.
  2. Food for sixty
  3. Getting sixty people to there and back.
  4. Presentation stuff. Speakers? Microphone? OHP?



 

Erin felt better.

With bold determination Erin strode to Michelle's desk. “I guess you heard that?”

“Honey, deaf people on the other side of the street heard that.”

Erin pushed down her embarrassment. “I need a room for sixty people.”

Michelle shook her head. “Only The Conference Room could even hope to hold that many and guess who holds the keys for the top floor.”

Erin's face fell, “Her?”

Michelle nodded, “Her.”

“But she wouldn’t undermine the company. What if I pitch my booking for the Glory of Boston Products?” Erin asked.

Michelle shrugged, “What do you have to lose?”

“You mean other than everything I'm on the verge of losing anyway?

“Yeah, other than that.”

Erin stride back to her desk was slightly less bold. Staring at the phone Erin took a deep breath and picked up the receiver as if it were poisonous.

“Hello? May I speak with Alice Wintergrove? “

Erin forced a smile as she listened, “Yes, Erin Chambers, Mr Stojoski’s assistant.”

Erin drew an ever tightening spiral on her note pad. “Is there any chance I might be able to book the Conference room? Yes. I know this is short notice.”

Bighting her bottom lip Erin listened to the lengthy reply, “For tonight.” Erin clarified.

Erin's smile slowly slipped away, ' Oh. I understand. “

Erin winced, “I do agree. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Erin hung up the phone and rested her head in her hands emulating the position her boss had taken earlier.

“You need a coffee”.

Erin jumped as Anne spoke behind her.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Erin asked, her hand clutched to her heart.

Looking hurt Anne replied, “Kill you before coffee? What kind of monster do you think I am?”

Erin got up, “What I need is breakfast. I think there is something in the refrigerator.”

Erin looked through the refrigerator while Anne poured coffee. Seeing a familiar bag, Erin reached in a pulled out the flan Gregor had given her earlier in the week. “Gregor knows industry people.” Erin mused, her grin returning.

“Are you talking to me?” Anne asked as she passed Erin a coffee.

“No. Thanks. I need to think bigger.” Erin took a large pull of her coffee, squared her shoulders and strode towards her desk. “I have some phone calls to make.”

“Go get 'em Girl” Anne said.

Bringing the White Pages up on her computer, Erin searched for the number she wanted.

“Hello? Gregor? This is The Erin.”

 

 


	23. Gregor to the rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How to make a meeting out of nothing

Erin felt a surge of relief as Gregor answered the phone, “The Erin! How is Gregor's third favourite straight girl?”

Erin grinned at Gregor's usual extravagance, “I have got myself in trouble.”

Gregor chuckled, “Oh Erin. If you would only date nice girls, everything would be alright.”

Erin laughed, “I don't think that would help this particular problem. Here is what I need. I need to host a meeting with food and drink for sixty people. I currently don't have food, drink, a place or transport. What I do have is sixty people confirmed, my job on the line and one thousand dollars. Can you help me Gregor?”

Gregor was silent on the phone as Erin nervously tapped a pen on her desk and listened to the sounds of the bar over the phone. Eventually Gregor spoke, “The Erin challenges Gregor. Sixty people you say?”

Erin nodded even though Gregor could not see her, “Yes. Sixty. Adults, mostly men.”

Gregor was silent again. Erin thought she could hear faint scratching or writing.

“And The Erin's situation is desperate?”

“Gregor, I'll dance topless on your bar if that's what it takes.”

Gregor chuckled quietly, “Six hundred dollars in cash, and Gregor would need to see how good your dancing is first. For this Gregor will provide food and drink and catering for Erin's sixty. Gregor will ask a few people if they have a suitable place, but Gregor can make no promises.”

Erin bit her lip. That was more than half her money. “Gregor. Is there any chance you could do it for less?”

“For the Erin, Gregor will do what he can.”

“Gregor! You are a life saver.” Erin enthused.

Erin decided to withdraw cash from the card. Grandmother Barksdale was very insistent cash had a magic power people cannot resist. _Grandmother had been wrong about a lot of things._ Grabbing her coat she headed to the bank.

Other than the bank teller wanting to see her driver’s licence, withdrawing cash was easy and with several hundred dollars in cash padding her jacket Erin decided a celebratory visit to her favourite city coffee shop was in order. Perhaps they knew of a nearby place she could hire for tonight.

With her mind calculating floor space and whether furniture would be included, Erin was not paying attention and so ran into the man who had just come out of the cafe. Erin looked up, preparing an apology, to see a slightly built man with wire rim glasses, a brown suit and a gold bow tie. Erin’s chest constricted.

“Hello Erin. Fancy meeting you here.” Jason said.

This time Erin's rush of emotion did not lead to terror. It its stead rose as a towering anger. Grabbing the small man by his coat lapels Erin slammed him against the wall of an adjacent service alley.

“What are you doing here?” Erin hissed through clenched teeth.

Jason struggled futilely against Erin's grip, “I was getting a coffee. It's a coffee shop, or technically a cafe, from the French. One of the many loan words ...”

“Shut up! What the hell do you think you have been doing?”

Jason held up the crumpled paper coffee cup in his right hand. “I was getting coffee. Coffee? I was more a tea drinker in my youth, but these days, what with the corporate preference ...”

“That's not what I mean and you know it! Why have you been following me?” Erin snarled.

Jason's eyebrows puckered in to a confused frown. “I'm not really following this conversation. What do you mean?”

Grabbing Jason's coat lapels tighter Erin shook him, “Three days ago, on the street, you were walking right behind me. Yesterday when I was buying coffee just down the road you were taking photographs of me. Don't tell me you didn't see me,” Erin flicked her bright red hair, “This hair is hard to miss you know.”

Jason blinked repeatedly making him look like an unearthed mole. “Well. Yes. I had thought I had seen a lot of redheads. I thought it was a city fashion. As for being in this area, I did mention I was working nearby for a few weeks. I'm fairly sure I had mentioned this earlier. In regard to the photos, well yes, I was taking photos of buildings in in this area. My company, well the company is putting together a brochure and they did ask me to take some photos of the area. I did the photos for the year book at school, did I mention that? But I assure you, I have not been following you. In fact I have not seen you since our dinner … err … engan... meeting.”

Erin sneered in his face, “Really. Not getting hints from the Angel of Stalking.”

Jason looked away, his expression sad, “Well, actually, the angels have been a bit quiet since our … dinner. I think they are a bit cross with me.

Erin let go of Jason’s coat. “Really?”

Jason straightened his coat. “The mess at the Murdered Crab, for which I truly apologise, has shown me I'm placing too much reliance on my angels. Yes. That night was to teach me to look around and make more of my own decisions.” Jason sighed, “I can well understand you would think the worst of me and I really don't know how to get on with people.”

Erin snorted.

“But pleased be assured, “Jason continued, “I have not been stalking you. I do have a little pride, you know.”

“So you have not been stalking me?”

“No.”

“And those times I saw you?”

“Pure coincidences.”

Erin felt a slow flush creep up her neck, “So when I grabbed you and threw you against the wall?”

Jason lips quirked into an amused smile, “Common assault. But perfectly understandable. I won't be pressing changes.”

Erin's blush had reached her cheeks. “I should buy you a new coffee.”

Jason studied the crushed cup, “No. I need to cut back. Mostly an excuse to escape the office. Erin. I did behave badly at the restaurant and I am glad to have … met you again. I was concerned you may not have made it home safely.”

Erin looked around, searching for a solution.

Jason stuck out his hand for a handshake, “Simple misunderstanding? No hard feelings?”

Hesitating a moment, Erin shook his hand, “No hard feelings.”

Jason smiled, nodded and walked out of the alley, dropping his coffee cup in a bin.

Her desire for coffee extinguished, Erin hurried back to Boston Products.

When Erin returned to her desk there was a note in Michelle's handwriting, _Call Gregor!_

Erin called and Gregor answered immediately, “I am Gregor and you are not.”

“Gregor. This is Erin.”

“Erin? Erin? Gregor knows no Erin.”

Erin took a deep breath to calm herself, “This is The Erin.”

“Ah The Erin. I have good news for Gregor's third favourite straight girl, and also, news that is less good. “

“Good news first, Gregor. The Erin needs something.”

Gregor laughed, “The Erin has food. The Erin has Drink, The Erin has a sound system, The Erin has lighting. Enough for Seventy people. The Erin has all this for Four Hundred and Seventy Five dollars.”

Erin sighed and drew stars with smiling faces on her note pad. “And does The Erin have a place to put all these good things? Does the Erin get receipts?”

The silence lengthened down the line. Finally Gregor answered, “Gregor did say not all news was good. No Place, No receipts. No questions to be asked. The Erin takes it, or leaves it.”

Erin answered quickly, “I'll take it. The Erin takes it.”

“Gregor knew The Erin would understand.” She could hear the laughter in his voice, “Now about your dancing ...”

“Gregor!”

Gregor laughed again, “Tell Gregor by Five tonight where Gregor is to be.”

Erin sighed, “I will. I will.”

The line went dead. Two down, everything still to go.


	24. A plan comes together

Erin ended another unsuccessful phone call and looked at her watch. _Three Thirty-Five. Is there enough time left?_ The day and any hopes of success were leaking away. Her desk was littered with scattered phone books, brochures, mugs of half-drunk chocolate and a map of central Boston. The map had slowly collected cross after cross of places not available tonight and Erin was out of leads. A political convention had booked out every hotel conference room and wedding venue in Boston. The only place not booked had been condemned and Erin was seriously considering hiring it. Erin checked her watch again. _Tool late to call schools and the DORA LEE COMMUNITY LIBRARY was just big enough, if they took out all the bookshelves._

Erin placed her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands, the curtain of red-orange hair creating a momentary haven from a world out to destroy her.  Even this refuge was violated by the thump on her desk and her boss's tense voice.

“Well. Our day just got worse.”

Erin looked up into Mr Stojoski's tense face.

“Somehow, Roma Plastics, an up and coming plastic extrusion company in Italy of all places, has heard of your meeting, and have invited themselves along. Every department in Boston Products have been trying to get an introduction with Roma Plastics for years without success and now they are coming to your meeting.”

Erin asked, “So how many in total and how many of these people are from Boston Products?”

Mr Stojoski frowned , “It is odd. No one from Boston Products has accepted their invitation. I expected at least a few.” He shook his head, “You’ll have at least seventy people, all of whom will be judging the entire company on tonight’s presentation.”

Erin struggled not to cry.

Erin’s boss continued, “Oh. It gets better. The owner of Roma Plastics, Salvatore Bini will be attending in person. We know almost nothing about him, except,” Mr Stojoski paused, “He makes business decisions on first impressions. Because so much rides on tonight’s presentation going perfectly, I have increased your card limit to One thousand five hundred dollars. That is all I can do.” Mr Stojoski shook his head, “For some reason, billions of dollars of joint venture possibilities now rests on your performance tonight.”

Before Erin could answer, Mr Stojoski strode from the room.

Erin recalled every bad mistake she had made. Cheating on her Maths exam; Staying out all night during her wild phase at school and coming home smelling of beer and cigarettes; Making a pass at the interviewer at college and losing the place there; Brian, _Everything_ about Brian. Nothing came close to the disaster hanging over her now. She was going to fail; there was no saving her now. _This is the story of my life,_ Erin thought _, every time I think I’m finally winning, it all gets taken away from me._

Erin's decent into morose oblivion was interrupted by her cell phone ringing. Cell phones were supposed to be off during the day so Erin scrabbled to find the offending device.

“Hello?” She half whispered into her phone.

“Am I speaking with Erin Chambers?” A man asked in a tired voice.

”Yes. I am Erin Chambers” Erin felt as tired as he sounded.

“Erin. This is Mason Waters, from the real estate agency. We manage your Apartment. After the earlier difficulties, I just wanted to see if you had any further issues that we could resolve.”

Erin's eyes widened, _Real estate, Buildings. Buildings that might be empty._

Mason asked, “Erin, hello?”

“Yes. Yes.” Erin answered some excitement returning to her voice.

“Oh. There are still issues?” Mason sighed, “Very well if...”

“No. No issues with my Apartment. Maybe you could paint the new door. No. I need your help with something else.”

Mason sounded relieved, '"We will get the door painted next week. Now what was the other matter?”

Taking a deep breath, Erin replied, “I need a room, a space, where sixty, no seventy, possibly more, people can meet. There will be a presentation. I need it tonight. What have you got?”

Mason hummed, “I don't think I have anything, sorry.”

“Nothing?”  Erin asked, failing to keep the desperation from her voice, “An empty house?  An abandoned basketball court? “

Mason hummed again, a habit Erin found increasingly irritating.

“I'm sorry. Tonight? The best I can do is ask someone in Commercial. Will you be covering the insurance?”

Erin had not even considered insurance, “Oh Sure. I have insurance covered.”

“Well I'll pass your number onto Commercial, and see what they have.”

“Could you transfer me? I’m happy to hold.” Erin asked.

“I could, but they are all out at the moment, a problem at a building site. But I will tell them as soon as they return.”

Erin smiled and nodded, “Excellent. Good. Sooner is better.”

Erin rang Gregor and informed him or the increased numbers. She wondered how he took the news so calmly.

 

Erin was a little surprised by Michelle hurrying to Erin’s desk, while looking over her shoulder.  Michelle handed Erin a single, neatly hand written page of names and phone numbers.

“Bus companies. It's too late to tell people a new address, so I thought you could use a bus or maybe two. We have been told not to help you, so you did not get this from me.”

Erin blinked back tears, “Why? If I don't get this together…”

“I can’t tell you. I’ll explain later, but not here. I promise.”

Michelle hurried back to her desk as Erin dialled the first number.

The first three companies were not interested; the fourth wanted two thousand dollars as a deposit.

Erin gathered her courage to dial the fifth number when her cell phone rang again.

“Erin.” Erin answered wearily.

“Erin, this is Katrina Waters, from Best Boston Commercial Real Estate. Mason said you were looking for a performance space? For tonight?”

“Performance space? That will do.”

“Look I have an office space that is currently free. It has power and lock up, but not much more, but the floor is rated to 100 people.”

Erin grabbed her pen. “How much and where?”

Katrina Waters paused and the sound of paper rustling filled the silence. Tonight, five pm till five am, will be six hundred dollars. It's on the corner of Millpond Road and Richards Lane.”

Erin frantically unfolded the map of Boston, and after some effort found the cross roads.

“That's in the industrial area? “ Erin queried

“Yes. On the edge there. It's what I have. Do you want it or not?”

“Yes. I'll take it. What do I need to do?”

“I'll have the paperwork ready for you to sign,” Katrina said, “but you'll need to pick up the keys in the next half hour. Same office you visited earlier this week.”

“Great," Erin said already standing and grabbing her bag, “I'm on my way now.”

Erin looked into her boss's office, but he was not there. Grabbing her coat she caught the first taxi that passed the front door. Erin made another unsuccessful call to a bus company from the taxi.

 

Katrina Waters was waiting when Erin arrived. “So glad you were able to take this up. After the debacle with the banking we have been struggling with cash flow. We have had to delay the refurbishment until things are a little better.”

“Refurbishment? “ Erin asked.

“Nothing to worry about, I hope it suits your needs.” Katrina quickly assured.

Smiling Erin said, “I'm sure it will.”

 

With the final signature complete. Erin sat back. Catering done, location done.

“How will you be paying for that?” Katrina interrupted Erin's moment of satisfaction. “Card or invoice?”

'I have a deal for you,” Erin said leaning forward, “I'll pay you full, now, in cash. For a discount. Five hundred dollars.”

Katrina cocked her head, “We had agreed Six hundred dollars”

Erin nodded, “Six hundred dollars on a card, with delays, and fees. Or five hundred dollars, now.”

Katrina licked her lips. “Five Fifty.” She countered.

“Done.” Erin pulled the envelope from her jacket and counted out the notes.

Katrina turned to one of her staff, “Ben. Run this down to the locksmith. Get it to them before they close.”

The young man took the cash and left in a hurry.

Katrina handed the keys to Erin. “You drive a hard bargain. Have you ever considered a career in commercial real estate?”

Erin laughed, “Ask me tomorrow.”

 

Erin checked her watch as she walked back to her apartment. It was not far and she would need her car. _Plenty of time._ _Should I investigate the office she just rented? Should I drive to G-Bar? No_. I _still had to find a way to transport seventy people from the offices at Boston Products to an office space elsewhere_.

“Worst Thursday ever.” Erin announced as she kicked her apartment door closed.

Drinking the last of the milk from the carton, Erin pulled the bus list from her bag. She had Four hundred and seventy five dollars, the three remaining Bus phone numbers and all the hope in the world.

Twenty minutes and four phone calls later, all hope was gone. One number hung up, one person had laughed and the last person had suggested a novelty party bus company, whose phone number had been disconnected.

Absentmindedly Erin picked up the borrowed cookbook and flicked through it. On the back cover was the Stamp of the DORA LEE COMMUNITY LIBRARY.

 _Marge_! Erin thought. Marge knew everybody, so she must know someone who could help.

Erin nibbled on a lock of her hair while the phone rang. She imagined fantastical medieval demises due for her tomorrow. The phone was answered by a bright and cheerful, young man's voice.

“The Dora Lee Community Library. We have books.”

“Ernest?” Erin asked.

“Ladder Girl? Is that you?”

Erin wondered why people could not just use her name, “This is Ladder Girl.”

“Erin,” Ernest sounded delighted, “Great to hear from you. I don’t think your book is overdue yet.”

“No Ernest. I'm ringing about a bus.”

Ernest paused and then asked cautiously, “You are familiar with what libraries do, aren’t you Erin?”

Erin explained, at length. It was a relief to have a sympathetic listener. Erin concluded with her need for transport, and her hope Marge would know someone.

“That sounds awful," Ernest sympathised.

“I am at my wits end.”

“Erin,” Ernest hesitated. “I might know someone from my Historical Re-enactment Group, but he is a bit unsavoury.”

“Ernest. Right now, if the Devil had a bus I’d call him.”

Ernest snorted, “Closer to the truth than you think. Eric is a sleaze, but he has just started a tourist bus company. I don’t know a lot of details, but he is just starting up so he might be willing to deal. Do not, under any circumstances agree to go on a date with him.”

Erin’s eyebrows rose, “Protecting my modesty, Ernest?”

“Yes.” Ernest replied shortly.

“Give me the number.”

Ernest dictated a number, and concluded with, “Just take care, all right?”

“I will, Ernest and thanks”

Erin rang the number and it was answered almost immediately, “Eric’s. The Half-a-Bus company.”

“Eric. My name is Erin and Ernest, from the History Club, recommended I speak with you.”

Eric chuckled, “There are a lot of names starting with ‘E’ in that sentence. How can I help you, Toots?”

Erin gritted her teeth, “Eric, I am ringing on behalf of Boston Products. I need transport, for at least seventy people, from Boston Products head office to the corner of Millpond and Richards Lane and back. I need it tonight. Can you help me?”

Eric’s voice became smoother, “A damsel in distress. Desperate needs requiring desperate deeds. Eric is the man you want.”

Erin repressed the urge to either laugh or vomit.

Eric continued, “And what do you offer me Toots? What are you willing to give out?”

Briefly wondering if there was enough time to strangle Eric and steal his bus, Erin replied, “One hundred dollars up front, on credit card, Five hundred dollars more on presentation of receipt. Cash or card as you prefer.”

“I think I might need something a little more personal.” Eric said.

“You can state in future advertisement that you have Boston Products as satisfied customers, and... and you and your drivers will be fed.” Erin hoped that would be enough. Ernest’s warning competed with the threat of job loss.

“You got yourself a deal, Toots. Never say Eric ain't a fair man. Give me the where and when. And that sweet, sweet credit card number.”

Erin hung up at the end of the call, dazed. Had she done it? Was there something she had missed? Was success actually possible, or was this a house of cards waiting for the worst possible moment to crash? She would know by the morning.


	25. Party, I mean meeting

 Erin's phone rang. Answering she heard Michelle’s frantic voice. “Erin. Are you there?”

“Yes, Michelle. What's the matter?”

“Gregor. It's Gregor. He's been trying to call you. But he only has your desk number.”

A chill ran down Erin's spine. Why was Gregor calling? _If he pulled out now … No. Don't even think about it._

“Michelle. Did he say what he wanted?”

“No. Only you had to call him. We did not know if you were coming back and it's almost five.”

Erin looked at her watch. It clearly indicated Three Thirty-Five. The clock on the microwave said four fifty-five. The clock beside her bed said four fifty-five. Erin checked her watch again. It had stopped.

Michelle's voice sounded from the phone, “Erin? Erin, are you still there?”

“Yes. I have to go. No. Wait. Are you busy tonight?”

“Sorry Erin. My parents are going to call tonight and they panic if someone does not answer the phone.”

“Ok. I have to go.”

Erin dialled Gregor. “Gregor. The Erin. The address is the ….”

Gregor interrupted, “Gregor feared The Erin had forgotten Gregor. The Erin has made Gregor worry about a straight girl. The Erin is a bad girl.”

“Gregor, Please.” Erin begged. “I need you.”

Gregor chuckled, “The Erin is forgiven.”

Erin gulped a breath, “Thank you, Gregor.”

After quickly discussing the address, Erin agreed to meet Gregor at the site in ten minutes.

#

Ten minutes later, Erin was lost. The streets on her maps were brick walls, or fences, or one-way streets in the wrong direction. Erin doubled back, found the one land mark her map and her world shared and started again. Erin wondered if tomorrow she could get a job as a rat in a maze. The new combination of turns eventually lead her to a building where Gregor stood beside two vans. Two people she did not recognise were unloading the vans onto the sidewalk while Gregor scanned the road. Erin ran to Gregor, “I got so lost.” Erin looked from Gregor to the building. It was obvious why the building was being refurbished. At some point in it recent past, the single story, brick building had been on fire. Blackened walls and boarded up windows indicating the location of the damage.  The door for which she had a key was solid steel and freshly painted prison orange with highlights of graffiti.

“Perhaps it will look better on the inside.” Gregor suggested.

“Can we get this fookin' door open? This deck weighs a ton”

Erin turned to the speaking man. A short wiry man dressed in jeans and a tank top. Erin initially thought he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt but closer inspection revealed full length arm tattoos. _Who goes sleeveless in Boston in winter?_ He was carrying a table covered with knobs and switches and slides. She guessed it had something to do with the public address system. Erin hurriedly produced the key and opened the heavy padlock securing the door. Pushing the door open revealed a large, open and dark interior.

“Hope this place has power.” the wiry man said as he struggled in to the room.

Erin searched the walls near the door and found a panel of switches. She flicked them all on, illuminating the room. She wished she hadn’t.

Erin studied the room unsure if it was in the middle of repair or demolition.  Most of the ceiling panels were missing and cables hung in untidy coils from the roof. The floor may once have had carpet but all the remained were chaotic squiggles of old glue.  The walls not scorched were either stripped back to rough brick or covered in competing layers of graffiti. The few original roof supports were pillars of flaked cement.

 “Bit of a fixer-upper, Eh?” The wiry man's voice close behind her made Erin jump. “Never mind, I've played skankier dives.”

The man stuck his hand out, “M.C. My-Key. Gregor's called in a favour, so I'll be playing tonight. You have heard of me, right?” He studied Erin's face, “Played at DOOF-MARE before Christmas?”

Erin shook his extended hand and shook her head.

“I was top billing at DOOF before Dishonour? You heard of that?”

Erin again shook her head, “I'm new to Boston.”

M.C. My-Key smiled, “Well you are in for a treat tonight.”

Erin tried to return the smile, “My Boss needs to make a presentation. He will be able to do that with your system?”

“Not a problem!” Mikey replied, “If he's got a laptop” - Erin nodded- “I can make this place ring like fookin' bell,” and with this assurance MC Mikey strolled off to his collection of electronics.

Erin checked her watch, realised it still was not working, and checked her phone. “I need to go. Can everybody just manage?” Without waiting for a reply, Erin raced to her car and drove towards Boston Products head office. She only got lost twice. As she arrived Erin realised she had the keys for the venue with her and had not told Gregor or the others when she would be back.

Erin parked illegally and ran to the offices of Boston Products. Her boss, Mr Stojoski was standing at the front door of the building talking with two men in suits. About a dozen similarly dressed men and a few women waited nearby. A few nursed take away coffee cups. Mr Stojoski excused himself from the conversation and strode to Erin, “The transport is coming, isn’t it?” He asked in a tense whisper.

“Yes," Erin’s watch still optimistically declared the time was Three Thirty-Five, so she put it in her bag. Checking the time on her phone, Six Thirty, Erin said, “It should be here any minute.”

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of a fleet of four Black, Stretched Limousines.

“Roma Plastics.” Erin’s boss hissed, “Everything must go right.”

He straightened his jacket, and made his way to the cars disgorging young men and women in expensive suits. Erin recognised the clothing as the last year’s Italian fashions. The group chatted amongst themselves in a foreign language Erin recognised as Italian.

Erin checked her wrist, then her phone again and felt the tension tighten her stomach. Up till now disaster was only a possibility. From here on the failure would be very real.

Looking towards her boss Erin met the eyes of the man Mr Stojoski was speaking to. From the deference Mr Stojoski was showing Erin surmised this was Salvatore Bini.  Erin guessed he was in his early thirties and he could easily have been a model. Holding Erin’s gaze, the man smiled, the corners of his eyes creasing slightly and Erin’s pulse rose. A heavy mechanical rumble distracted every one’s attention as four military trucks pulled up in front of Boston Products. The driver of the first truck popped up through an opening in the roof, “Erin Chambers?” He called, “You got yourself a ride.”

Mr Stojoski's gaze travelled from the military transports to Erin with an expression Erin chose not to interpret. Erin plastered a bright, cheerful and completely fake smile across her face. Her grandmother's voice echoed from her past, “ _When every other option has fled, smile like you mean it and bluff.”_

Erin strode to the nearest group of suit attired men, pulling the attendee list from her hand bag. _Why are these all men?_ “Gentlemen. If you wish to attend the exciting presentation from Boston Products, please state your name and then board a truck.”

To Erin's eternal surprise, people lined up, had their named marked off and climbed the ladders into the back of canvas covered open military transports. Many even seemed excited by the experience.

Erin turned to find herself face to face with her boss.

“What's the address?” He asked, “Mr Bini's party will be making their own way there!”

As Erin was reciting the address her eyes widened as the Italian in question approached.

“Dennis.” Salvatore Bini said causing Dennis Stojoski to turn, “Is this the organiser of this evening’s meeting?”

“Yes. This is Erin.”

Salvatore stepped past Erin's boss, took her hand and met her eyes, “An unusual approach, Would you not say?”

Erin was unsure who was supposed to answer the question, and how she was to extract her hand from the Italian's grasp. His hands were warm and soft.

Without waiting for a reply Salvatore Bini continued, “The unusual should be nurtured, cherished.” At the word cherished Salvatore lightly ran his thumb over the back of Erin's hand, causing her to catch her breath. Still holding Erin's gaze Mr Bini asked, “Will you ride with me, Erin?”

Erin kept her smile in place. “I'm afraid I have to take my own car, but I'm sure Mr Stojoski could go with you.”

Mr Bini eyes twinkled, “You never need to be afraid when you are with me, Erin.” Turning to look at Mr Stojoski, “Dennis. Yes, I have been rude inviting myself. As an apology please take a seat in my car.”

Salvatore Bini released Erin's hand, caressing her hand as he did so. Gesturing to a limousine, he guided Mr. Stojoski away.

Erin found Eric loading the last the attendees into a truck.  He turned as she approached, “Hey Toots. Right on time.”

Erin's smile would have chilled winter. “Bus, Eric. You said Bus, but I see no bus. Also,” Erin continued, raising her hand to forestall any response, “You have arrived and I am grateful, but if you call me Toots again, the only money you will see with be your bank account draining away in court costs. Do you have a very clear understanding?”

Eric swallowed, “Sure thing, Too …, um?”

“You may refer to me as Miss Chambers.”

“Yes, Miss Chambers.”

“Good. Now move these trucks.”

In the safety of her car Erin rested her head against the steering wheel, and drew a ragged shuddering breath. There were so few possible futures ending in success, and so many ending … somewhere else. Erin started her car and decided to go directly to the venue. Perhaps if she was lucky, she would beat them to the site and be able to ease Mr Stojoski's arrival.

Erin got lost.

By the time Erin arrived the limousines were empty and a middle-aged woman in a tight business skirt was attempting to disembark from a truck via a small ladder. Erin raced to her assistance. _Ladder Girl to the rescue._ Once on the ground the woman turned to Erin, “This is the most fun I've had in years. I'm Margret Clark, from Specialised Credit Limited.”

Erin remembered the name from the full invitee list. One of the six women. Erin had been expecting a rebuke, but the woman before her seemed actually excited.

Margret continued, “You are Dennis’ new assistant? “

“Yes,” Erin replied, “Erin Chambers.”

Margret looked around,” Even the long haired one ...” Margret paused, her brow creased.

“Nicole?” Erin suggested.

Margret smiled, “Yes. Even Nicole would not have thought up something like this. Dennis can sure pick them.”

Erin reapplied her plastic smile, “Boston Products, always amazing.”

Gesturing for Margret to enter, Erin hurried into the building. Soft and unobtrusive music filled the room. The room smelled of fresh paint, and circular tables covered in table clothes dotted the floor. Stacks of remarkably clean plastic chairs lined one wall. The far wall from the door, which Erin remembered as splattered with Graffiti, was now a uniform white and a projector attached to the sound desk illuminated it with swirling, hypnotic patterns. M.C My-Key stood at the sound desk, his head clamped in headphones. He was moving out of time to the music Erin could hear.

 

 Erin searched for Gregor, fearful of what outrageous get up he might be wearing, yet she was still unprepared for what she saw. Gregor was dresses as a 1920's bartender. He looked like an extra from Casablanca. The woman Erin had seen unloading Gregor's van was now dressed professionally and was delivering food from an enormous tray to the tables.  Erin marvelled at her ability to carry the enormous metal trays in a single hand. Her build and muscles did make her one of the largest people in the room.

Gregor grinned as Erin approached, “The Erin must say Gregor does magic.”

Erin looked around the room noting the huge improvements. “Magic? He does Miracles, and Gregor is beautiful. Where did you find the tables and chairs?”

“The fashion opinion of straight girls is nothing to Gregor. The underground parking had many things, and The Erin must not go down there. Some things are not for The Erin to see. The tables are huge cable reels. The table cloths, Gregor had in the van.”

Watching another huge load of food delivered to the tables, Erin leaned closer to Gregor, “I did some math. You are charging less than ten dollars a person. How is that possible?”

Gregor shook his head, “The Erin promised Gregor, No Questions. The Erin also promised Gregor cash.” Gregor's smile took the sting from the rebuke.

Erin dug into her coat pocket and  produced the promised money.

Gregor pocketed to cash and returned to serve drinks.

Erin spied her boss, Mr Dennis Stojoski, bearing down on her. _Happy smile, Happy Smile,_ Erin thought.

“This is not what I expected.” Mr Stojoski said. Erin did not think her boss sounded pleased.

“Boston Products. Always Amazing” Erin replied. She looked around at the cable drum tables, the plastic chairs, the food she could not ask about, the incoherent and competing graffiti decorating most of the walls.  Erin’s plastic smile threatening to shatter, “I screwed up. I tried to fix it. This is the best I could do. I'm Sorry”. Erin saw movement behind her boss, “And Mr Bini is approaching”

Salvatore Bini had moved from his group of followers and stopped alongside Erin and her boss. He rested a hand on Erin's shoulder, but turned to talk to Mr Stojoski. “How amazing. How Alive, How Fresh. People tell me Boston Products is dull and boring. But this,” He gestured to the room, “I look forward now to see what thrilling presentation you have for us.” Tuning to Erin, “And this is the lady making good things happen?”

“Erin, yes.” Dennis replied.

Erin felt the heat from Salvatore and met his gaze with her best Finishing School expression. His eyes were the grey of a stormy sea and they seemed to draw her in, under, so Erin focused on the bridge of his nose. The silence between then stretched, till Salvatore broke it with a laugh. “She is too modest to claim her prize. Perhaps she would be less shy in a more intimate setting.” Turning back to include Dennis in the conversation, “I too have a new Assistant. She too is from Boston. We must call her Miss Candice or we are all in trouble. It was she who told me of this meeting, and here I am.”

Salvatore Bini walked to the bar, leaving Erin and her boss speechless.

Mr Stojoski cleared his throat, “Erin, where am I to set up my presentation. I have it on my laptop.”

Pointing at the sound desk and the tattooed man behind it, “You will want to talk to M.C. My-Key”

Mr Stojoski looked unconvinced, “Will I?”

“Yes”.

Attracting the DJ’s attention Erin gestured to Mr Stojoski. “Mikey …”

Mikey interrupted, “Only, ya see, they wall was crap, we found some paint down stares so I painted it. The Wall. Right?”

Erin stared from the DJ to the painted wall and back, “You just painted the wall?”

“That’s what I said. Now, what you want?”

Erin explained about Mr Stojoski’s presentation and was amazed how swiftly and deftly Mikey was able to connect her boss’s laptop to the sound desk and projector. She was sure it would have taken the I.T department half an hour to do what Mikey did in three minutes.

The home screen of the laptop replaced the hypnotic swirled, splashing a giant portrait of Dennis' wife and two children against the freshly painted wall.

“All yours, Mate” Mikey said as he pushed a performance style microphone into Mr Stojoski’s face. “Knock their fookin' socks off.”

Mr Stojoski stared out at the crowd. “Good evening. Have you got something to eat? Something to drink?”

The crowd shouted their confirmation.

“Good. Good. You were probably expecting a polished presentation in a sterile board room, with cold coffee and stale cakes. No tonight. At Boston Products, we do things differently.”

Erin had not worked for Mr Stojoski for long, but one thing had become obvious. Dennis Stojoski liked to be prepared. He did not like surprises and most of all he hated ad-libbing. For the next forty-five minutes, Dennis Stojoski ad-libbed his presentation. He skipped slides. He passed over his much loved graphs. He made jokes. He sweated in the cold Boston night. Erin could see the whites of his eyes from where she leant against the bar at the far end of the room. With a clink Erin picked up and nursed the Gin and Tonic Gregor had made her.

“It goes well?” Gregor asked.

Erin smiled her cool, studied smile, “Of course it goes well.”

Erin shook her head and drank half the G’n'T before continuing, “No. Gregor. It skirts on the edge of disaster. But you have done magic.” Erin watched her boss, “Lots of people are rising to the occasion. I just hope it will be enough.”

Dennis Stojoski finished and most of the attendees made their way to the bar. Mr Stojoski went to reclaim his laptop.

“Erin.” An Italian accented voice whispered into her hair.

Erin turned to Mr Bini.

“Do you speak Italian, Erin?”

Erin had studied French at Finishing School but she had spent a year in Europe, “A few words, Mr Bini.”

“You must call me Salvatore and you will learn when you come to Rome. It is best to learn by being fully immersed. Don’t you agree?” He slightly emphasised the word immersed, lengthening it silkily.

Erin had learned French and dance and deportment at the school overlooking Lake Geneva. Which knife went where and why? How to instruct staff. She also learnt to tell when she was being seduced. Many of her class mates had been at The School solely to learn how to catch a husband, or the next best thing. If she played this a certain way she could almost guarantee being a wealthy man’s mistress. Erin knew her mother would have leapt at the possibility. Erin, to her surprise, was amused. Salvatore was handsome, foreign, well dressed, wealthy, and almost certainly well connected. Erin, at eighteen, would have thought him perfect. Eight years later, he was still remarkable attractive, but Erin was determined to stand on her own.  

Erin warmed her smile as per the instruction learned in deportment, “Should I ever visit Rome, I'll be sure to study the language.”

“But you must come. All of Rome will grieve if you do not come to us. I assure you, you will be well looked after.”

Before Erin could respond, the quiet conversations peppering the room were shattered.

 “ALL RIGHT FOOKERS. LET ME SEE SOME FOOKIN’ DANCING”

A crescendo of sound shook the room and a deep bone-felt pulse throbbed at deafening volume. The thump of house music precluded any conversation.  Erin scanned the room, her expression of horrified surprised mirrored on her boss's face. Turning back to Salvatore she shouted “Excuse me.” She finished her Gin in a single gulp and headed towards her boss. By the time Mr Stojoski had finished his conversation and fought his way through the crowd to Erin, some of the younger men, and one woman were already dancing.

“What is going on?” Mr Stojoski shouted into her ear.

“I have no idea. I did not arrange this.” Erin shouted back.

“Well do something about it.” Her boss instructed.

Erin's journey to the DJ's desk was interrupted when Salvatore Bini grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the dance floor. “Dance with me.”

Erin glanced back at her boss who was franticly gesturing towards the Italian business man and not the sound desk. Erin shrugged and turned back to the dance floor.

Erin could dance. You do not attend society balls from childhood and not be able to dance. A full year at a Swiss finishing school had expanded her repertoire. Erin could waltz, both classical and Viennese. She knew her foxtrot from her quick step. At the insistence of an Argentinian oil baron's daughter she had even taken an extra course in Latin dance. She could tell the difference between a Salsa and a Merengue. She never really mastered the Bossa Nova. All of these skills readily equipped her to shine on the dance floor. Salvatore knew how to dance.

Erin shoved aside the bitter memory of her wedding, where Brian had vanished before the dancing started leaving her to dance the couples wedding dance with a groomsman. Erin saw Mr Stojoski sitting in a plastic chair against the wall. A drink in one hand, his head in the other.

Erin still harboured the hope the night could end well, till she noticed M.C My-Key and a small group of attendees gathered in a corner. Money was changing hands. Attendees were popping something small into their mouths, before returning to the dance floor. For one, naive moment Erin wondered why the DJ was selling breath mints. Who would pay fifty dollars for a breath mint?

The realisation hit her, and a clear understanding. The truck hitting her home had killed her. She was dead and this was Hell. Everything made sense now, an awful, beautiful, releasing freedom washed over her. She had lost, she could give up.  M.C My-Key gave her a wink and the wink flared her anger. If he was the Devil, she was going to give him a piece of her mind, and if it was just some pretentious two-bit entertainer with a fake English accent, he was going to get a kicking.

Erin cornered the DJ, “Are you selling drugs?”

Mikey spread his hands apologetically, “Sorry Luv. I’m all out. You should have asked earlier.”

Erin clenched her fists, “I do not want your drugs. I do not want you selling drugs to my attendees.”

“Easy Luv. Looks like you could use a downer. Anyway, they were my regulars and they cleaned me out. Just Chill.”

Erin’s breath rushed in through her flaring nostrils and with enormous effort she recovered her decorum, “Just. Just Don’t”

“Sure. Easy.”  Mikey raised his hands, “Got it. You’re the Boss. Now, if you don’t mind, I got a song to queue.” He returned his attention to the sound desk.

Erin looked across the meeting turned house party. People lined the bar, paying for drinks. Salvatore was speaking to her boss.

 _Was he still her boss? Did she work anywhere? Should she have accepted Salvatore’s unspoken offer? Was it even an offer? Was it still open?_ Erin shook her head to dispel these thoughts. _I will succeed or fail on my own merit or the move to Boston was a lie._

Mr Bini and Mr Stojoski had ended their conversation, each approaching their respective staff.

“Erin, “Mr Stojoski shouted over the music, “I am leaving now. I am leaving you in charge. I will see you in my office tomorrow morning. Do not be late.” He turned and followed the Roma Plastics staff outside.

The rest of Erin’s evening involved babysitting a group of intoxicated thirty somethings, keeping them on site, shepherding them into trucks which departed at irregular intervals.  Eventually the last guest had staggered from the dance floor, been thanked, counted, loaded in to a truck and dispatched.  Erin stayed behind to clean up the bar. She would shoot occasional dirty looks at the DJ. Gregor danced about, obviously delighted.

“What has you so pleased? “ Erin asked.

“Gregor has had a very good night”. Gregor pirouetted.

Erin smiled, “I saw you taking money. I thought drinks were free.”

“Beer and wine is free. For spirits, Gregor gets paid. But that is not the reason Gregor is pleased.”  Digging into his vest pocket Gregor produced 3 business cards, “Gregor was given phone numbers,” Gregor fanned himself with the cards, “Gregor still has it.”

Erin frowned and Gregor’s offsider laughed.

“For romance.” Gregor explained.

Erin blushed and hastily carried the closest thing out to the van, laughter echoing behind her.


	26. The Morning After

The alarm beeped insistently until an arm untangled itself from the bed sheets and smacked the clock into silence.

A muffled curse emanated from the bed, followed by a tangle of red hair.

Am I hungover? I didn’t drink that much.

 Erin stumbled to the bathroom groping for the door frame to steady herself. As she relived her bladder, she yelped in pain. Erin threw herself into the shower and ran the water hard. She finished peeing, biting her lip not to scream. Whimpering, Erin let the shower sooth her.

“Please no, please no, please no.”

Finally overcoming the pain, Erin found a hand mirror. Lying on the bed she contorted to see where she usually could not. She saw three blisters, in the place no girl wants to see even one. Erin dropped the mirror, curled up and sobbed.

Brian's gift of herpes was back.

Erin's body hurt and her thoughts hurt worse - Every voice, every joke, every comment she had ever heard, demanded her immediate attention.

Her grandmother’s distain, “Dirty girl, shaming the family.”

Erin's mother’s disappointment, “Erin how could you. Didn't you check first?” And then trying to help, “It won’t be so bad, at least you have Brian.”

Brian's dismissal, “No big deal. No one forced you.”  And later his attack, “You didn't catch it from me. I caught it from you.”

Damaged goods, filthy whore, slut, filthy, diseased.

Erin wept.

It was the gift that kept taking. All she had done meant nothing. No one would want her, could want her, she could have no one, be loved by no one. If anyone was stupid enough to want her, she had to reject them, protect them from her ugliness, her shame. Crawl back. Go home, worthless, useless. Maybe if she begged, Brian would take her back.

 

One voice pushed its way through the noisy clamour. Daria's monotone voice asked, “I thought you had a bit more backbone?”

Erin could almost see Daria’s shrug. Imaginary Daria's voice said “You've overcome problems before. But why not give up now? Losing is always simpler that succeeding. Why break the family’s tradition of whiney victimhood.”

Erin dragged herself off her bed and found her pill bottle. Empty. She tried to remember when she had last taken a pill. It had been a busy week.

She could stay at home, feel sorry for herself, have lots of showers and eat ice-cream. Or she could go to work, dressed in uncomfortable clothes, be chewed out, humiliated and probably sacked.

Erin grabbed a cold pop tart as she went to work.

 

Alice Wintergrove was waiting by the front door when Erin arrived. Erin held no illusion this was accidental. She tried to pass with a polite smile.

“I will speak with you in my office immediately, Ms Chambers” the older woman demanded.

Erin was surprised, not at the order, but by a PA having an office. Too tired and sore to argue, she followed the older woman into an office. The office was spartan, without evidence of personalisation. If there had not been the name plate on the door, Erin would have thought it a spare office occasionally used by traveling Sales Managers.

 

“You must be exceedingly pleased with yourself.” Alice Wintergrove snapped as soon as the door was shut. “It has obviously been you goal to undermine this fine organisation from the very moment you set foot in our door and now you have surely succeeded in tarnishing our reputation.”

Alice Wintergrove stood behind the desk. “It was not enough that your personal life is one of disaster and destruction. No! You had to bring your calamity to this old, established and successful organisation.”

Erin sighed and wondered if she could just walk out. The older woman was ranting, and Erin knew from her family, ranting people were not interested in anyone else’s opinion.

 

Before Alice Wintergrove could launch into a further monologue, the door burst open. Dennis Stojoski stood in the doorway, “Ah, Ms Wintergrove. Erin is supposed to be in my office. Not yours.”

Alice Wintergrove had been startled by the interruption, “I was just discussing matters with Ms Chambers”

“Yes. I can see that” Mr. Stojoski said. Turning to Erin he said, “I want you in my office immediately and you are not to leave until I get there.”

 

Erin saw the undisguised look of vicious vindication on Alice Wintergrove's face. Erin left the room as quickly as she could ~~.~~

 

Racing through the office in an attempt to be there before her boss, Erin dumped her over coat and bag on her desk. Glancing about she saw Michelle's sad smile of sympathy. Erin smiled back, though she felt there was nothing to smile about.

Erin sat in the visitor's chair in Mr Stojoski's office. The chair she sat in when she would take notes or when they would discuss meetings. Erin wondered if she would ever sit in this chair again. She studied the office carefully. Mr. Stojoski had left a file on his desk. He had a bad habit of not securing files. Erin rose, intent on filing the document. It was her personnel records. Her records. She slumped back into the chair. There could only be one reason he had her file. He was going to sack her. Her job, the thing she had left home and safety to get was gone. She was going to be terminated in disgrace. Her boss was probably already arranging security to drag her from the building and throw her out into the snow. No one would ever employ her again. She had a little money put aside perhaps a month’s rent. What if they mad her pay back all the money she had spent yesterday. That was thousands of dollars. She could not afford that. She would have to sell her car. Erin started to sweat.  If she sold her car, she would have no way to leave Boston and nowhere to sleep once her rent ran out. Erin squeezed her eyes shut trying to hold in the tears.  No Job, no Money, no home, no food. She had read in the newspaper about homeless people freezing to death. The sting between her legs reminded Erin that even prostitution was denied to her.

Erin leapt in fright as Mr Stojoski entered the office.

 

Erin trembled slightly as Mr Stojoski shut the door. She had decided she would be brave. She, Erin Chambers, would hold her head high. If this was her execution, she would face it like a queen, not a beggar. Mr Stojoski did not take his seat behind the desk; instead he leaned against his desk, facing Erin.

She tried to determine his expression. Worried? Tense? Disappointed. He leant against his desk lost in thought. Finally Erin spoke.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

Mr. Stojoski shook his head. “Erin. I honestly do not know where to start. So, I guess I’ll get the hardest part over with first.”

Erin held her breath. Her pain and her worst fears squeezed a tear from the corner of her eye.

Mr Stojoski shifted uncomfortably, “Erin. I am sorry. I placed you in an impossible position and abandoned you. This was inconsolable behaviour on my behalf and I apologise.”

Erin realised her mouth was hanging open and closed it. What she was hearing was so removed from her expectations that it took her a moment to comprehend what her boss was saying?

“Sorry?” she asked.

Mr Stojoski nodded lost in his own thoughts, “Yes. It is true that there is a lot going on,” Mr Stojoski looked up from his shoes to Erin's face, “Even now I cannot tell you everything. But that is no excuse for placing you in the position you were placed in.”

Erin was shocked into silence.

“How long have you been with us, Erin?” Mr Stojoski asked.

“Almost two months, Sir.”

Mr Stojoski’s eyebrows arched, “Really? I had thought longer. Erin, what you did yesterday is nothing short of remarkable. With no resources, no contacts and no time you produced not only a workable presentation forum but, so I am told, quite an acceptable dance party as well.”

Erin looked away. She did not want her boss exploring just how good a dance party some people had.

Mr Stojoski continued, “No need to be modest, Erin. It was the equivalent of pulling a rabbit out of a hat, when you have no hat. A number of the representatives from the other companies there made a point of telling me how impressed they were. Apparently Industrial Grunge is in fashion. Who knew?”

Erin's cleared her throat, “It was the best I could do. I think that I could do better if I had read the email more accurately.”

Mr Stojoski smiled, “Erin you did very well. Yes, there were a few surprises, but I said in one of our first meetings that someday I would need your spark. When I needed it, you did not let me down. And Erin …”

Erin looked up at her boss's change of tone.

“Please, call me Dennis.”

Erin's eyes widened, “Yes - … - Dennis”. His name felt strange to say.

Dennis smiled. “Now for the good news. Firstly, I have authorised a one-off bonus for you. There should be an extra thousand dollars in your account by tomorrow. Let me know if it is not there. I have moved you off employment probation; you are now a full employee of Boston Products.”

Erin, gasped, “You, I mean … Thank you, Dennis”

Dennis grinned, “I'm hoping that will be enough to keep you when Salvatore Bini's inevitable job offer comes your way. He told me he had a position in mind for you.”

Erin wondered if Salvatore would still want to position her if he knew her current medical situation. She did imagine, for a moment, what positions Salvatore might prefer.

“Best of all,” Dennis continued, “last night's presentation has generated interest in joint ventures with three companies, including Roma Products.” Dennis leaned back against his desk.

Erin struggled for what to say. Finally, she settled for, “Thank you, Dennis”

Dennis smiled, “Sadly, or perhaps wonderfully, this has created a huge amount of work and I cannot give you the day off, much as I'd like to.” He handed Erin a thickly filled folder, “I need these typed up by lunchtime.” She took the folder and strode out to her desk.

 

Erin found her friends, Michelle, Anne, Monica and even Asha, gathered around her desk, their expressions forlorn. Supressing her smile, Erin ignored them as sat at her desk. Michelle rested a hand on Erin's shoulder.

Dennis Stojoski poked his head out of his office, “Oh Erin. There is a list on the inside cover of that file. They are the only people I'm taking calls from.”

“Sure thing, Dennis.” Erin replied.

Erin turn back to her stunned friends, “I'd love to chat, but I have a job to do. Perhaps I can take you to lunch?”

#

Erin sat at the booth of her favourite café restaurant, torn between the joy of her friends barely supressed curiosity and the pain of sitting.

Michelle broke first, “How are you still here? We heard that instead of arranging a meeting, you used company money to host a rave in an abandoned building. Why aren’t you in jail?”

Erin hid her smile behind the menu, “The chicken schnitzel looks nice. I think I’ll have that.” Erin grinned at her friends, “What would you like?”

Anne snorted, “Some answers. And what happened, to I can’t call him Dennis,? I work for him, not with him-?” Anne mimicked Erin’s tone.

Erin allowed her grin to show, “Oh, that? That’s for employees on probation.” Taking on a haughty tone Erin said, “We permanent employees have greater liberties.”

Michelle leapt up from her seat, “Permanent? You’re permanent? You have months left.”

Monica leaned forward, “Can I borrow your mind control device, when you’re done with it?”

Erin smiled and returned her attention to the menu.

Anne snatched the menu from Erin’s hands, “No. No food for you, until you talk. We want details, explanations, demonstrations with hand puppets as required. Spill the beans kid.”

Asha grinned. “Well if you don't want to talk to us, I guess you have no interest in a juicy rumour I heard about Alice Wintergrove.”

Everyone’s attention focused on Asha.

“Okay. Story for story. You first.” Erin said.

Asha studied her finger nails, “What I heard was that Alice Wintergrove had her ears soundly chewed off by one Dennis Stojoski for having the gall to speak harshly to his favourite Personal Assistant.”

Michelle gasped, “He didn't.”

Asha, “He did. Words like 'Need I remind you that she works for me, not you?'  Apparently five minutes of managerial rebuke. She has not been seen since.”

Erin’s eyes widened. “Really? He did that for me? You win. You want the story? Gather around."

The orders were taken about the time Erin related Gregor's assistance. Monica sighed, “I want a Gregor.”

Asha laughed, “He don't want what you got. He wants what you don’t got.”

The meal's arrival interrupted the haggling for real-estate.  Salvatore and his various charms were woven through a discussion about desert.

Anne chuckled, “He can stamp my passport any time he wants to.”

Coffee was delayed by peals of laughter about Righteous Erin and the Devil DJ.

Erin pushed her empty coffee cup away, “And that was about it. Dennis is pleased with me, I'm still employed and maybe Alice WinterBitch will be off my back for a while.”

Erin contemplated her friends, “Now I have a question for you. Where the hell were you when I needed you?”

The laughter at the table died and Erin's four friends looked anywhere but at her.

Asha said, “I had been away … sick, so I had huge amounts to catch up and ...”

“No,” Michelle interrupted. “I'm not lying about this one. I was told not to help you. I got dragged into His Lordship's office and given an ear bashing about not focusing on my own work. Then I was given a load of meaningless work. This has happened before but the timing was suspicious.”

“Now you mentioned it,” Anne mused, “I was asked to redo the six month projections based on factors that will never happen. It took most of the day.”

A solemn silence covered the table while each of the five ladies pondered.

Monica broke the silence, “You were set up Erin. But why and by whom?”

Asha answered, “Alice Wintergrove. She hasn’t liked anyone who has worked for Mr. Stojoski.”

Michelle said, “In all fairness. Nicole did call her a withered old hag in the middle of the office.”

Anne chuckled, “I remember that. I wanted to hide under the desk when she said that.”

Asha continued, “Think about it. She has access to everything, everyone is frightened of her.”

Michelle shook her head, “I don’t think so. She has the method and it is her style, but what's her motive. Maybe it was her, but I just don’t think so. She would never endanger the company.”

Erin stood and the movement caused a sudden burn between her legs. She winced and griped the table tight enough to whiten her knuckles.

“Are you alright?” Michelle asked, reaching for Erin.

“Yes. Fine,” Erin gasped, “Just a little tired from last night. I'm running on about three hours sleep.”

Anne laughed, “I know what that's like.”

Michelle looked unconvinced.

When Erin arrived back at her desk she discovered a bouquet of flowers so large that it covered her desk. Anne pointed at the flowers, “Well someone has made an impression. Is Trevor reminding you of something?”

Monica read the card, “Only if Trevor writes his notes in Italian, and signs with a single 'S'.”

Erin took the card from Monica's hand and attempted to decipher the message.

“What does it say?” Asha asked.

Erin smirked, “My Italian is pretty poor, but I don't think I’ll let him do that.”

Erin's friends laughed.

“So are you taking these home?” Michelle asked.

“Are you joking? My apartment is smaller than these flowers. With a grin, Erin grabbed some card stock from her desk and wrote,

_'To Gregor_

_From His Third Favourite Straight Girl_

_Thanks. The Erin.'_

She made a quick phone call “Mailroom? Can you deliver flowers? Excellent, From Erin Chamber's desk. Thanks”

Monica shook her head, “You are re-gifting flowers? That's cold.”

Erin plucked a few flowers from the bunch and handed one to each of her friends, “To my friends, unreliable as you occasionally are.” She took a single flower for herself and clasped it to her chest, “Salvatore, I'll always remember what might have been.” She laughed and chucked the flower on her desk.

 

The rest of the day was unremarkable except for the growing, burning itch,

Anne walked past and asked, “Now your visit to hell is over are you ready for your date with Mr. Wright tonight?”

Erin had been wondering what to do about Trevor, or weekends or even surviving. “No. No I’m not.”

“Well get ready, or cancel. “ Anne suddenly grinned, “I have a red wig, and I could go in your place.”

“No, and why do you have a red wig?”

“I’ll tell you when you are older.”

Erin wanted to meet Trevor, but was in no mood to be good company, and sitting was getting more and more uncomfortable. But mostly she did not want to have ‘The Conversation’. It surprised her that she was thinking about Trevor that way. She did not want to date, not yet, considering the source of her current pain, maybe never. But definitely not tonight.

Erin poked her head into her boss’s office, “Excuse me, Dennis.” Her boss looked up waiting for her to continue, “May I leave a little early?”

Dennis waved his hand dismissively, “Go, Have a good weekend.”

“Thank you, Dennis”

The nearest drug store refused to fill Erin’s script. It was out of date, or was on the wrong coloured form or the organisation no longer recognised Virginia as part of the United States. Erin tuned out of the tedious explanation, and bought pain killers instead.  Erin left the store with the instruction to see a doctor. The failure to procure medicine was the final straw. She had no phone number for Trevor, so a quick detour to an internet cafe left a brief but apologetic email to Trevor and she took a tub of ice-cream home to keep her company.

 


	27. A fateful meeting

 

Saturday

Erin woke refreshed. For the first time in a week she has gone to bed early and woken without an alarm. A dinner of pain-killers and ice cream may have helped. She lay in bed, thinking.

_This week was a milestone. The first time I have been really tested. There was trouble and I survived. I'm a survivor. But I've been living day to day. Reacting. Where do I want to go? Long Term? What can I do?_

The immediate answer to the question was to pee without whimpering. She almost succeeded.

Erin's phone rang, interrupting the decision to add ice cream to muesli. Erin had added her mother to her contact list so the unknown number did not fill her with dread. It was still with some trepidation that she accepted the call.

“Hello? This is Erin.”

A man's deep rich Baritone asked in slightly accented English, “Erin. I have not called too early, have I?”

Erin did not place the accent, but the voice thrilled her “No. I was just having breakfast”. Erin silently cursed sharing such personal information to someone she had not identified.

“I'm glad I did not wake you. I was wondering if you would join me for coffee at our usual place.”

Erin frowned. It was not Salvatore; his accent was easily detected. It was not her boss. Dennis did not have any accent. Ernest had shared a coffee with Erin and he could have found her phone number at the Library records. But Ernest's voice was higher, brighter, not as rich. This voice filled her with an emotion she could not quite identify.

“Erin?” the voice prompted, “It's Trevor.”

“Trevor!” Erin shouted into the phone, “I did not - … when did you get a phone? How did you get my number? Not that I mind. Yes, I'd love to have coffee with you.” Erin leapt up and was immediately reminded why she had cancelled the dinner last night. She bit her lip.

Trevor answered, “I got the phone yesterday. It took a little while for it to set up. You put your phone number in your email. I thought I'd call you and see if you were feeling better this morning. Your email was a little vague.”

Erin had managed to fight down the sting enough to answer, “If you knew the week I have had, you would be exhausted just hearing about it.” Erin checked her microwave clock, “Trevor? I need to have a shower. I can be there in an hour. Is that OK?”

Trevor’s voice smiled through the telephone, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Erin threw herself into the shower.

Trevor had called.

She risked a quick rinse of her hair without the usual weather forecast consultation.

Trevor had called her.

Drying carefully around her outbreak she then threw her towel in the general location of the washing pile.

Trevor had bought a phone just to call her.

She threw on her clothes and raced the door.

Trevor wanted to see her.

 

 

 

Brushing the knots and water out of her hair on the 'T' oblivious of her fellow commuter’s disapproval, Erin mused on what jacket Trevor might wear today. Did he have any more Jackets? Applying makeup at stations, to avoid blinding herself with a mascara brush, she wondered how he would have coffee today. She decided she would have whatever he was having.  She made her way through the weekend crowd across the park scanning for Trevor.

He was wearing his Sports Jacket today. A magnificent calm anchor amongst the wash of tourists. Erin was sure he was standing on the exact spot he had stood when first they met. Erin quickened her pace. Trevor's smile broadened as he saw her.  Erin stopped too close to him, requiring her to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At Erin's sudden arrival Trevor had placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to steady her. Taller, he looked down.

Erin drew breath.

Trevor kissed her.

For Erin time stilled. The softness of Trevor’s lips, the scratch of his beard on her cheek. Trevor’s hand on her shoulder had slipped behind her back, steading her, not holding her against her will. Erin was unsure how long the kiss lasted, it felt natural. Natural as breathing, as warming as sunlight, firm, gentle, and slightly like a facial exfoliant. All too soon, Trevor released her, stepped back. His usual confidence tinged with an unasked question, the tiniest flicker of doubt made him seem vulnerable. Erin knew he waited for her response, her approval.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel welcome”. Erin smiled.

Trevor's smile tentatively returned, “I am sorry, I have over stepped our bounds. It just came so naturally. I should ….”

Erin placed gentle hand on Trevor’s chest, “It is alright.”

Trevor's frown lingered, “I am pleased to see you, I didn't mean to …

“Trevor. I said it's alright.”

Trevor nodded and cleared his throat. “Coffee?”

Seated at a table by the window, Erin studied the menu. She was not hungry but she wanted time to review her thoughts. How did she feel about being kissed? How did she feel about Trevor? Erin snuck a look at Trevor. He certainly was not pretty. Not model attractive the way Salvatore was. Trevor did have a quiet confidence. Erin struggled for the right word. Manliness? The word had lost its clear definition, but there was a something. A presence. Erin felt safe with Trevor and that was attractive. Did she want to be attracted to Trevor? Did that matter? She could see where things took them, but that was at odds with her decision to be in charge of her life.

Trevor put down his menu, “Have you decided or do you need more time?”

Erin wondered for a moment if he was reading her mind, before realising he was asking about ordering. If life had a menu what should she order?

“I'll just have coffee. I'll have whatever you order.” Erin answered.

Trevor raised an eyebrow the corner of his mouth quirked into a smile, “I was going to order cheese toasties as well. Will you be sharing those with me again?”

Remembering her unintentional theft of his toasted sandwich, Erin smiled, “You are too kind, sir.”

Once the order was made and the protective menus taken away, Trevor leaned back, “Erin, why don't you tell me about your week?”

 _Why? Because it was hell. Because I ended it by not seeing you and because I'm not ready to talk about why I cancelled. That’s why._  Erin shook her head slightly, “Tell me about what coffee I'm getting.”

Trevor's lips pursed for a moment, then his gentle smile returned, “A Doppio Ristretto. A double restricted. Usually a shot of coffee is 30 mills”

“Mills?” queried Erin.

“Millilitres. It’s what the rest of the world uses to measure volume.” Trevor said, “I don’t have the conversion tables memorised.”

“I know about millilitres.”

Trevor shrugged, “Anyway, a ristretto is the first half of an espresso pour, then we double it to get the same amount. The result is a sweeter, richer more flavoursome coffee. And here it comes.”

The coffee roiled thick and oily in her cup as Trevor lectured on coffee, tasting, flavour notes. Erin knew wine tasting was a complex art, she had not considered this would extend to coffee. Under instruction Erin let the coffee sit on her tongue before swallowing. The coffee was strong, both sweet and bitter at the same time.

“Sorry Trevor, I didn’t really get all the different flavours you talked about.”

“I didn’t expect you to, the first time. You have to look before you have a chance to see.”

Trevor closed his eyes and finished the last of his coffee. The expression of intense savouring. She barely knew him, but he was sharing things that were important to him with her. A bitter thought intruded, _Brian never did that, even when I tried to be interested in the stupid games on TV. I should tell him about the herpes now. He has a right to know. But not here with all the customers and staff listening._

Erin shifted in her seat. “Trevor. Could we go for a walk?”

“Of course, did you have a destination in mind?”

“No. Just around the park.”

Trevor paid the bill as Erin found enough money to cover the tip. Offering her his arm, Trevor led Erin out into the cool Boston sunshine. Erin told the tale of the past week. The truck crash. The police, both visits. She went into detail about the meeting and all that entailed. As they arrived at the cafe again Erin took a deep breath.

“Trevor,” Erin began, startling herself, “I. The reason I cancelled last night. I have something to tell you.”

Trevor looked up.

The future opened up before Erin, as clear as any soothsayer’s dream. She would tell Trevor. He would not understand, so she would be forced to explain in detail. Then the change would happen. His hesitation, the leaning away, the failure to hide his revulsion. He would unconsciously wipe his hands over and over. He would try to say something, but the lie of acceptance would catch in his throat. Then the withdrawal, the excuses, unable to look at her. She would never again look into his beautiful eyes. He would remember a previous engagement, his phone would be disabled, contact would diminish, wither, die. He would cast her out, as he should, as he must. She would be alone. Forgotten. Forever.

Tears welled in Erin’s eyes.

“Erin? What is it?”

Closing her eyes, Erin willed the tears away without success.

“I ... I can’t”, Erin whispered, mostly to herself. “I’m Sorry. I ... Not right now.” Erin started to turn away.

Trevor, frowning, reached out to her.

Erin flinched away. “Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me!” She fled in tears. The pain of running only fuelled her flight. Diving into the nearest taxi, “Go, just go.”

Looking behind, she saw Trevor. She memorised the image, knowing she could never see him again.

 


	28. Friends in need

Blinded by renewed tears of pain and grief Erin stumbled down the stairs of G-bar. Oblivious of the silence her arrival caused, she threw herself into her usual bar stool, leant her head on the bar and sobbed. A glass was pressed into her hand and she drank it without thought. The drink burned its way down Erin’s throat.  Eyes watering from the alcohol, she stared up at Gregor’s sympathetic face.

“Crying girls get straight Gin,” Gregor declared, “Even straight girls, for Gregor has no queer gin.”

Erin took a more tentative sip and savoured the burn, she could taste the flavours, the hint of herbs on her pallet. This reminded her of Trevor trying to teach her how to appreciate coffee. Erin renewed her sobbing. “Oh Gregor. I've done something stupid.” She stared into her glass of gin, as if all the world's answers floated within.

“Does The Erin want to talk? Does The Erin just wish to cry? Gregor allows both.”

Shaking her head, Erin replied. “The Erin is gone. Just Stupid Erin is left. Who can I possibly talk to?”

“Gregor will assist.” Gregor beckoned someone over Erin’s shoulder, “Erin, meet Shelly. Shelly meet Erin. Shelly is studying listening. Erin is sad and straight.” Gregor chuckled softly, “Only one of these is a problem today.”

Erin turned to look into the face of a young brunette. She too had a sympathetic smile.

“I'm Shelly. Would you actually like to talk? Gregor is sometimes wrong about these things.”

“Gregor is never wrong.” Gregor announced. “Sometimes the world fails to meet Gregor's expectations.”

Picking up has glass, Erin asked, “You are really studying listening? “

“I'm a second year Psychology student at Boston University.” Shelly glanced at Gregor, “So I guess Gregor is partially right.”

Gregor snorted and went to serve someone at the other end of the bar.

Erin sighed, “Why would you want to listen to me? I don't even belong here. I don't belong anywhere.”

Shelly said “Come on, let’s talk. It's good practice for me. And as for belonging, you are almost a regular.” Shelly guided Erin to a table near the back of bar, “Just to be clear,” Shelly said as she pulled out a chair for Erin, “I am not trying to pick you up. I'm just here to listen.”

Erin sat and wiped her tears away with her sleeve.

“So, “Shelly asked, “What's on your mind?”  
Erin told her. Once Erin started, she could not stop. She found Shelly to be an attentive listener, who never once tried to suggest a solution, or tell Erin what to do. Erin told her everything.

Finally running out of story Erin sniffed and drank the last of her Gin, “This is stupid. If I told Trevor what I just told you, I wouldn't have to tell you anything.” Looking around Erin asked, “Oh, were you here with someone?”

“No. But if I was, and they did not understand that a Sad Sister came first, they could just leave. As to why you can tell me, it’s because you have no emotional connection to me. I'm the perfect stranger.”

Erin sighed, “Actually I feel a lot closer to you now.”

“That can happen too.”

Erin took a deep breath and looked down at her empty glass, “How much Gin did I just drink?”

“I'd guess about three to four shots. I don't suggest you stand up quickly.”

Looking into Shelly's face for the first time since their introduction at the bar, “You didn't suggest anything. What do you think I should do?”

Shelly smile widened, “I don’t offer till I'm asked. Or, at least, that's what I'm aiming for. Do you really want my advice? Can you think of anything you should do?”

“I can think of lots of things. I can't work out what to do next.”

Shelly nodded, and reached for her bag, “I think the first thing for you to do is see a Doctor. Do you have a regular Doctor?”

Shaking her head, “No. My usual doctor is in Virginia.”

“In that case, come and meet Dr. Babs.”

 

Erin followed Shelly down a small alley between two aging buildings. “Don't worry this is just a short cut. Dr Babs’ Medical centre does have a front door.”

Erin felt light headed. She was unsure if it was the emotional turmoil or the tumbler of Gin she had recently consumed on an empty stomach. Perhaps it did not matter.

Up a small flight of stairs and through a non-descript door, Erin was in a well-lit, clean and relatively modern waiting room. For a Saturday morning it was surprisingly empty. 

 

Dr Barbra McMurdock proved to be a woman in her early thirties, adorned with the white coat and stethoscope of her profession.

“So, Erin. What brings you to me today?”

“I have herpes.” Erin said.

“About one in six Americans do, and that ratio is about the same for the whole world. It might be even more if we include those people who never show symptoms.”

Erin's eyes widened, she had been unaware it was that common.

“But that does not help you, does it. Do you currently have an outbreak?”

Erin nodded, “Started on Friday”

“Well drop your pants and climb up on the table.” Dr Bab's said as she pulled on surgical gloves.

“I'm sorry?” Erin queried.

“Physical examination. It's one of the many ways Doctors are different to Air Traffic Controllers.” Noting Erin's puzzled expression Dr Babs continued, “That’s what my sister does. I'd like to examine the outbreak. Given that I can see nothing on your face I'm assuming that its hiding in your pants. You can decline an examination at any time, but I can do a better job if you allow it.”

Erin complied with the instruction and the examination was brief and as unembarasing as possible.

Dressed again Erin watched Dr Babs type into a computer. Erin was secretly delighted to find someone who typed even slower that she did.

“Are you on any medication?” Dr Babs asked without looking up.

After a brief search through her handbag, Erin produced the unfillable script.  Dr Bab’s studied the document with an increasing frown.

“I couldn't get it filled, “Erin explained.

“I'm not surprised, No one has prescribed this for years. What kind of management regime were you given?”

Erin shrugged, “Nothing really. Keep the outbreak clean. Mostly I got a lecture about the promiscuity of young women.”

Br Babs covered her eyes with her hand and sighed, “ Let me guess, This Doctor was old , white, and male. Probably overweight as well.”

“He has been the family doctor since my Grandmother ...” Erin's defence trailed away. “Yes, that’s an accurate description.”

'It might be best if we just start anew.” Dr Babs, printed out a script, “This is the latest in Pharmaceutical management. I'm giving you a high initial dose to get things under control. Come back and see me when the course is finished.”

Erin frowned, “The course of pills?”

“Yes.”

#

To Erin's surprise, Shelly was waiting for her.” You didn't have to wait.” Erin said

“Do you know how to get home from here, or even where here is?”, Shelly asked.

Erin realised that she had no answer for either question, but she felt safe with Shelly, 'I guess I am at your mercy.”

Shelly shrugged, “My mercy is good for a few more hours. I must admit, we’d always assumed you were a post grad at one of the uni's”

Erin smiled, “No, just a PA.”

An awkward silence settled.

“Guess I better take you home,” Shelly said.

Erin raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Shelly hurriedly corrected, “Get you to your home. “

“I thought that was what you meant, “

 

Once safely inside Erin took the first set of five tablets and settled down to read the brochures the doctor had given her.

Fortified by medicine, knowledge and a sturdy lunch, Erin reluctantly picked up her phone and dialled.

“Hello Trevor? It's Erin.”

 


	29. Back to the park

The Sunday morning crowd in the park differed from the previous day.  Less people, less tourists, less hurry.

Fifteen pale blue tablets in twenty hours, a good night sleep and 2 decent meals had cleared Erin's blisters. The shame of her behaviour and her medical condition still haunted her.

Trevor stood exactly where he had been waiting yesterday, hunched in his sports jacket against the bitter wind that blew in off the harbour. Erin almost fled when she saw him. With an act of will she walked towards him. She set her expression with a casual smile, and let it drop away.

_No false smiles. No pretence between us to day. I come before you as I am. You will accept the real me or reject the real me. I will not take the choice away from you. There will only be honesty between us._

She stopped just slightly out of his reach. She was not yet ready to deal with being kissed, or the rejection of not being kissed.

“Thank you for seeing me, again.” they both said in unison.

Erin blushed and Trevor smiled.

Gesturing to the cafe Trevor asked, “Would you join me for coffee?”

Erin shook her head, “Can we walk instead?”

“Of course.” Trevor turned to fall in beside her, “Are you going to run off again?”

Erin winced at the memory.

Trevor hurriedly continued, “Sorry. I was caught off guard yesterday. Leaving remains your right, always. The question I meant was, if you run off do you want me to follow?” Trevor shook his head and looked away. “Sorry I‘m saying this badly.”

“I won’t be running away, Trevor. You may choose to go and I won’t try and stop you.”

“Okay.” Trevor replied, “I am not planning on leaving.”

They walked in silence through the park, to the edge of the harbour, drawing about them a cocoon of mobile privacy.

 

Erin broke the silence, “Trevor. I have herpes.”

Trevor frowned. “That’s where you get cold sores on your lips?”

_Honesty Erin, you promised yourself honesty._

Erin sighed, “Like that.” She touched her face. “Not these lips.” Erin looked away and waited for the inevitable rejection.

“That sounds terrible. Are you okay?”

Erin considered the question, more for its tone than its content. Perhaps he had not understood. She studied his face and found genuine concern.

“Yes. I'm alright now. But the disease can only be managed, there is no cure yet.”

Trevor reached out, then hesitated, “Sorry. You asked for no contact.”

Erin shrugged, “I was overly upset, yesterday. Maybe not everything I said applies today.”

She studied his face, seeking something. _How can you know what they are thinking with all that fuzz on their face?_

“Trevor? Does it make a difference? What I told you?”

“Not significantly. I was looking for someone to drink coffee with and to talk to. I will only be in The States for six months.” Trevor shrugged, “You are good company, and you are fun and intelligent and have an opinion. Does it need to be more?”

Erin sighed. Somehow, she had wanted him to be more affected. But also, not care at all. She did not know what she wanted. “You may hold my hand, if you want.”

Her reached out and enveloped her hand in his. His hand was warm and the calloused fingers felt strong, though his grip was gentle.

_Maybe my infection simplifies things. I don't have to worry about getting too involved. This can be perfect.._

Trevor stopped in the lee of a building, “Erin, we probably don’t need to talk about this much, but I really appreciate you being open with me. I admire your courage.”

Erin blushed.

“There is a Greek restaurant with a good reputation. I’d like to try it; would you join me for dinner?

Erin smiled, “I’d love to have dinner with you. Where and when?”

“Tonight, I have already booked. It is a bit formal. So, no arctic jackets.”

She had a few dress outfits that she had not had a chance to wear since she came to Boston. She knew she could impress Trevor. “Yes. Let’s really dress up.”

Trevor grinned, “Great. Do you still want a coffee?”

 

Erin tried to savour the taste of her espresso.

“Relax; just let it sit on your tongue.” Trevor advised.

Erin tried to suppress her laughter, grinned, snorted and hurriedly swallowed her coffee to avoid spraying the dark rich drink all over Trevor. Trevor stared at her in confusion. “What?”

Wiping her mouth Erin grinned at him, “Can you stop making coffee sound so sexual?”

“Well it is sensual, but I don’t think all the blame can be placed on my description.”

“Really? Relax, just let it sit on your tongue or Let it slide down your throat. This is how you talk to people at work? No wonder people are rushing to study Engineering.”

Trevor raised his hands, “Alright, Alright”, he laughed. “If coffee is too stimulating, would you like to visit a museum.”

Finishing her coffee, Erin smiled, “Did you have a museum in mind?”

“Not really. Boston is an old city, proud of its history. I doubt you could walk five minutes without passing two Museums and an art Gallery.”

 

As they walked through the park, arm in arm, Erin recognised a couple approaching. The clingy girl and her much older man were once again walking along the harbour path _. Rebecca? Is that what Trevor had called her?_ As they got closer Erin realised that it was Rebecca, but not the same man.  Rebecca clung to him as if she feared he would escape. Erin looked up at Trevor, _Is that what I look like?_  Erin studied Rebecca and her current companion, she could only be sixteen or seventeen and he looked in his fifties, she certainly had a very firm grip on his arm. Erin disentangled herself from Trevor.

“What's the matter?” Trevor asked.

“Erin shrugged, “I just didn't want to seem clingy.”

“I didn't mind.” Trevor gestured to a stone building that had once been a colonial warehouse and now was a museum to itself, “Care to look in here?”

Erin glanced over her shoulder trying to see Rebecca, but the couple was out of sight.

 

Museums had never interested Erin. She understood the idea in principle, but things did not become more interesting as they got older. Trevor held an entirely different view of the world. He was fascinated and entranced by the most mundane objects. Two candle sticks from the seventeen hundreds held his attention, and through his excitement Erin began to enjoy the museum for more than the protection from the wind it afforded.

#

Later that evening the taxi dropped Erin around the corner from The Greek restaurant. This suited her very well as she intended to make a grand entrance. Erin had a few dresses left from when money had been no object, those glorious days before Brian when she was the Barksdale Darling.  The dress she wore was a classic example. She had foregone the Fox Fur stole, because she was not sure where Trevor stood on fur. She was no longer sure herself. The remaining outfit was glorious. Classic in style, it had been altered to fit her. When she had worn it to the Virginian Governor’s ball and danced with the sons of the Governor every eye had been on her. She wondered where she would be if she had accepted any of the marriage proposals that had followed.

Tonight, she was interested in only one set of eyes, Trevor's. She glanced at the women walking past her to reassure herself that her dress was the best and with her head held high she swept around the corner.  She spied Trevor, and fortunately he did not see her. She ducked into a door way and hid from view. She peeked out to study Trevor. It was him. Standing outside the restaurant. She registered he had a haircut since she saw him earlier today. What had shocked her and driven her into a doorway was his attire. Specifically, his suit.  Erin's dress was very beautiful, fitted to her, classic in line, the emerald green highlighting her red gold tresses. A result of her previous life of balls and social standing, of a year in a finishing school, was knowledge of the clothing styles of Europe. Trevor’s suit had very obviously been made for him. The suit he wore would have no label. Perhaps a small maker’s mark stitched somewhere discrete. Handmade, bespoke tailored, Milanese pure cashmere suit. The tailors that other Italian tailors studied. And Trevor was standing on a Boston side walk waiting for her in one. She knew that if she sold her car and got a very good deal, she might be able to afford to rent the jacket.  She peeked around the corner to see Trevor check his watch, displaying the matched silk shirt. And gold cufflinks. She looked down at herself. Her dress was suddenly old, tired, out of fashion, adjusted rack wear and she wanted to go home. Erin took a deep breath.

_You wanted to stun him, and you will. Remember the dress does not make you, you make the dress. Style comes from within, not without. God, did I ever believe these finishing school platitudes?_

Erin poised herself, breathed in and slowly out. She entered the flow of pedestrians and swept towards Trevor. His jaw dropped.

Erin approached him with studied grace.

“Goddess,” he exclaimed, “you are beautiful.”

Smiling Erin gave a playful curtsey, well aware of the passers-by gawking at her and Trevor. “You are too kind, Sir.”

Trevor unnecessarily adjusted his tie. “Not that you were not beautiful before, or that beauty is necessarily a valuable character trait, but WOW!”

“You are pretty WOW yourself.” Erin found his flustered response cute.

Looking down at the suit, Trevor said, “This is not what I would usually buy. In fact, I didn’t buy it. It was a gift some years ago. I was not allowed to ask what it cost.” Looking back at Erin he continued, “Thank you for giving me an excuse to wear it.”

Now she was close, Erin studied Trevor. A good suit really made a difference.  Trevor was taking the time to study her. With her earlier doubts gone, she knew she looked fantastic. Trevor offered his arm, a little awkwardly. Erin thought if they were going to do this again, she would have to coach him. She took his arm and the entered the restaurant.

With Jacket and stole cloaked, they made their way to the table. Erin automatically mapped the paths to the exit, there was only one, and the kitchen. This was their first evening out and the disasters of previous dinner dates crowded around her. But this was Trevor. He had been kind, and she had had coffee with him. She had already run out on him, tonight would be all right.

The night was a success. Even the main course of fried brains, which Erin had sworn never to eat, was wonderful.

They stood on the side walk again, the crowd thinned.

“Well?” Trevor said. 'Did you enjoy that?”

Erin sighed happily, “Yes, I had a wonderful time.” She was wondering if they should do something else. If she was a different girl, or even at a different time, she would suggest something intimate. Was Trevor about to do so?

“I had a wonderful time too, but as I have a client meeting early tomorrow. I'm sadly going to suggest we head home.

“Probably for the best, I have to work tomorrow too.”

Erin stepped forward, rising on her toes, and a rush of terror consumed her. _No. It’s too soon. He knows. He’ll reject you. He’ll…_

Erin’s further doubts were banished as Trevor swept her up into a kiss. There was no hesitation on his part and Erin allowed herself to surrender to the moment. The kiss lingered and yet was still over too soon. Trevor smiled, “Coffee Next weekend?”

Erin did not try to hide her smile, “Yes. Yes please.”

Trevor opened the door of the cab for her and as it drew away from the curb, she watched him out of the rear window, knowing she would see him again.

#

Erin settled into bed, her beautiful dress once again safely stored in its protective bag. The day had ended well, much better than it started.

Her phone rang and Erin smiled. It was probably Trevor. He must be back at his hotel by now. He would be in bed and she would be in bed. Erin's smile fled as she saw the caller ID.

_Mother! You just can't leave well enough, alone can you?_

Erin braced herself and answered the phone. “Hello Mother. Isn't a bit late on a Sunday for a call?” A cold chill swept over her. What if there was a problem?

“Erin?” Rita's voice seems sober but uncertain.

“Yes.”

“I'm sorry to call so late.”

Erin frowned. Her mother had apologised.

Rita continued, “We have just got the phone bill, these days we have to watch all the bills, and there is a call to this number about a week ago, but no one remembers calling you. Do you have any idea?”

Erin sat up, her eyes narrowing.

_Really Mother, or should I say Rita? Do you want a full recap of your filthy accusations and suggestions? Or was disowning me the part you would like to discuss. Perhaps you want further advice on how to sell yourself on the open market? Do you have a preference which way I turn the knife?_

“You say it was about a week ago? Is that right, Rita?” Erin's voice was tight and her free hand clenched the blankets.

“Yes. I think so. I have the bill here.” Erin thought Rita's voice trembled. “Yes, last Sunday.”

Erin's mind raced over the past week. The hardships she had endured. The difficulties with her work friends. The return of Brian's infection. She thought of Asha's struggle with drinking, of Shelly's support of a stranger, of Trevor's acceptance, of her own resilience.

“Erin?” Rita prompted, “Are you still there?”

“Yes Mother, “I'm still here.” Erin replied, “There was a call last Sunday, but it was just static and noise. Perhaps someone bumped redial or something like that. Nothing to worry about. I might be able to send you some money next week to help cover it.”

Rita sighed, “Could you? Don't leave yourself short, but if you could spare something, it would be appreciated.”

“Of course, Mother. After all, we are family.”

“Sorry for the call Erin, but this has been playing on my mind.”

Erin smiled, “Don't worry about it. Good night, Mother.”

“Good night, Erin.”

Erin ended the call and stared at the phone for a moment before returning it to the bedside table.

As she settled into her pillow she whispered, “I'm proud of you, Erin.”

 


	30. No Bosses

Erin arrived at work to find the other PA's gathered around Zoe's desk. “What's going on?” Erin asked.

“We don't know.” Zoe replied. “An all of management emergency meeting, which none of us got any warning. All the bosses gone, who knows where?”

Returning to her desk Erin checked her note pad, her computer and Dennis' desk and his diary. None of these usual sources of information shone any light on the utter absence of management.”

“I guess we just wait it out.” Michelle suggested.

#

“Time's up Ladies.” Zoe called as she checked her watch.

Erin looked down at the work on her desk and sighed. If she had only had more time. It would just have to be good enough. Hesitantly she lifted it up for display. “I have made a table mat out of paperclips.”

Her workmates gathered and admired the interlocking mesh.

“I've made the Canadian Flag on a round of Brie using coloured pins.” Asha said.

“What’s wrong our flag?” Monica teased

“I didn't have any blue pins.”

Anne had cut file covers into strip and had woven a raggedy basket. The prize went to Asha when she agreed to share the cheese with everyone.

“Has anything like this happened before?” Erin asked gesturing the empty offices surrounding them.

“Once,” Zoe replied, “When one of the managers was caught with his hand in the till.”

Erin's eyes widened, “Do you think that's what's happened?”

Monica snorted, “We'll see if there is an empty office tomorrow.”

“What happens to us?” Erin asked, “I mean to the PA of a manager who … leaves.”

Zoe shrugged, “It depends. Normally, you would probably be reassigned.  But if it was something funny going on …”

“Not to name the devil,” Asha added, “But Alice Wintergrove has outlasted eight of her bosses. One died while giving her dictation.”

“Enough talk,” Michelle said, “Who's coming to lunch?”

Erin shook her head, “Not me. I need to go to the bank.”

“We are going to the pizza place, so you can meet us there.”

Monica looked at Michelle, “When did you suddenly become boss. Are you paying?”

“It's Monday. We always do pizza on Monday.”

Erin left while the others were still arguing.

 

The queue at the bank was typical for a Monday and Erin filled her time wondering what Trevor was doing and how his client meeting went. Twice she got her phone out to call him, before deciding against it.

Erin knew it was archaic to visit the bank to check a balance, but she did not fully trust banking by computer. Okay for dating, not for important things.  She expected her bonus might have been paid but the amount the teller quoted as her balance shocked her.

“Could you check again?” She asked.

The teller typed on his computer, “That is the correct balance. Would you like me to print out the recent transactions?”

Erin glanced at the queue behind her, “Yes. Good idea. Thanks.”

Studying the transactions revealed the discrepancy. The deposit from her lawyers. Erin looked up at the ceiling and sighed as a great weight lifted from her shoulders. Her divorce settlement had come through. What little joint property she had with Brian was sold and her share was money in her account. The last binding chain to Brian was gone. She would never have to deal with him again. To her surprise a tear trickled down her cheek. She felt a sudden loss. Not of what had been, but what should have been. Brian was supposed to be her prince. The perfect husband at the perfect wedding, with a good life, joys and sorrows, children, and growing old together. What she got instead was heartbreak and betrayal, and lies, and contempt and finally driven from her home by a life she could not tolerate. All that could have been was now a few thousand dollars in a bank account. Brian had stolen her happy ever after and he had stolen her belief it could ever be possible and the loss punched her in the guts. Stumbling to a courtesy chair Erin waved away the concerned staff member and wept in her grief. Eventually the tears stopped and a numb calm settled over Erin and she swore she would never cry over Brian again.

 

Erin’s hopes of a discrete return to her desk were dashed by Michelle’s interception, “You didn’t make it to Pizza so I kept a few slices for … What’s happened?”

 _So much for water proof mascara_ , Erin thought.

Michelle’s outburst in an office deprived of its usual distractions brought Erin’s friends to her desk.

“Have you been crying?”

“Did Angel Boy stalk you again?”

Erin shook her head, “No. My divorce settlement came through.”

“But that's good right?” Anne asked.

Underlining the amount on the printed statement with her fingernail, Erin passed the page to Anne, “All my life to date is worth that much.”

Anne frowned at the page.

“Whoa there, Missy.” Michelle said, “I'm not letting you get away with that. Your life amounts to more than any dollar amount. You have life and hope and a future. A new start.”

“Very shouty friends.” Monica interjected.

Michelle grinned, “Those too.”

Erin smiled sadly, “I know, but it just feels like I have lost something.”

Zoe put an arm around Erin's shoulders, “You have. But you haven’t lost everything. I think that is Michelle's point.”

“What would I do without you all?” Erin asked

“Sulk.” was Michelle's immediate response.

#

The rest of the day passed without any sign of Management allowing the tedious tasks which had been put off till later to finally get done. The office staff went home no wiser regarding the absence of their bosses.

Erin made herself Macaroni and cheese from scratch and was well pleased with her results. Picking up her phone she dialled a number from her contacts.

Erin smiled as the phone answered, “Hello Daria.  Do you have a moment to chat?”

Daria’s droll voice answered, “Well I was supposed to be cooking, so any delay extends the lives of my house mates. If we chat long enough, they may decide to order takeaway and thus be saved for the better part of a week.”

Erin frowned, “I would not want to keep you from your cooking.”

“Is it me you are trying to punish, or is it the rest of the house?” Daria asked.

Erin shook her head, “I don't really understand you, Daria.”

“Then you are at least fifty percent qualified to be one of my Tutors. If you have a shallow and poorly researched understanding of the topic, then you might be overqualified. Are you looking for a new job?”

Erin laughed, “No. It was last week I was getting sacked. This week. This week has its own problems.”

Daria's tone became serious, “You were getting sacked? What's going on?”

“It's a long and painful story, best told over dinner and drinks. What I want to tell you is my divorce settlement is finalised.”

“I may not be the world’s best judge of human emotion, “Daria said, “But you are not sounding as excited as I would have expected.”

“I know, right. This is supposed to be liberating, but ...”

“But you are not feeling the joy?”

“No.”

The line was silent for a moment before Daria said, “You do know if you are asking me for relationship advice, I'll owe Jane forty dollars? Of course, if this is post relationship advice, I am better suited to help, and my bet with Jane is unaffected.”

“I'm not looking for advice,” Erin said, “Just everyone is expecting me to be partying, and I feel like something has died.”

“An interesting way to put it. “Daria mused, “Look What I do well in relationships is ruin them. My current attempt at social harmony functions despite my involvement, not because of it. Would it help if I were to remind you what a pig Brian was, or point out how you are currently the most successful member of your branch of the family?”

Erin grinned, “Yes. That would help.”

“Then, consider it done. For what it is worth, I consider you a nice enough person and I can say that sober.”

Erin chuckled, “So we are already better than our parents?”

 Daria paused, “Erin, I have only one real experience of ending a relationship. I was the instigator, and yes, it hurt like hell. But it didn't hurt for ever. That's all I've got.”

Erin replied, “That’s all I needed. Thanks Daria. I knew I could rely on you.”

“Well I best end this call before you discover the truth. Good luck Erin”

“Good Night Daria,”

#

Tuesday morning and the office was as empty of bosses as the day before, but Erin did have an email from Dennis, indicating he would be back on Wednesday and suggesting tasks she could complete in his absence. Most of the suggested tasks were already done, but Dennis had suggested a few things Erin had not considered.

Mid-morning Erin and her friends went to coffee,

Seated at their favourite table Erin attempted to savour her espresso. The note she was hoping for she could not find, so she ordered a brewed coffee.

“Look out, Erin, Anne’s said, “Angel boy has entered the premises.”

Twisting around Erin spied Jason. He had stopped in the doorway and was scanning the crowd. Erin's sinking feeling was confirmed as Jason strode towards her. She noted he bore a large envelope.

“I'll tell him to beat it,” Monica said rising from her seat.

Erin put a hand on Monica’s shoulder, “No. It's OK. I'll see what he wants.”

“He wants throwing in the harbour.” Monica muttered.

Erin took a few steps to meet Jason, “Hello Jason. What brings you here today?” Erin wondered how she ever considered him a threat.

Jason smiled, “Erin. Well Erin, I came hoping to find you. “

Erin frowned, “Why? I thought I had made my position clear.”

“Yes. Perfectly clear. Yes. And it is not without a certain hesitation I am looking for you.”

Erin cocked her head, “Our last meeting was a little rough on you.”

Jason nodded, “True. Indeed, most of our encounters have been less than ideal, but it is neither here nor there. You may remember you accused me of taking photo graphs of you, which I strongly denied. Well, this caused me to worry. I mean, I was sure I hadn’t, but what if I had? Been photographing you, not stalking you, I was not stalking.”

“Jason. I'm here with my friends. Why were you looking for me?”

“Yes. Get to the point. Good idea. Time is precious and so on. Well, just to be sure, I went back through all the photos I took and lo and behold, you were in one of the photos. Not a published photo. Oh, no.” Jason thrust the envelope at Erin. “For you. Of you. The original is deleted from the camera. Digital, you know, I printed a copy. The full photo and a detailed close-up of you. I thought you might like them.”

Erin took the envelope and continued to watch Jason.

Jason continued, “Oh, and this is my last day in Boston, I've been promoted to the office in Salem, to the north. No angels involved, just hard work. So… Fare well”. He stood in awkward silence before her.

Erin smiled politely, “I'll look at it later. Good luck with you new career.”

Jason nodded once and then turned and left.

Erin returned to her seat.

“What did he want?” Monica asked.

Erin placed the large envelope on the table, “He wanted to give me this.”

Monica frowned, “Probably a nude photo of him. I would just throw it away.”

“What makes you think it's a photo?”  Anne asked.

Monica pointed to the logo one the envelope, “Professional development house. They do wedding photos.”

Intrigued Erin opened the envelope and withdrew two large photos. The first was a panoramic view of the street, including the coffee shop. The second was portrait of herself. In it she was looking over her shoulder, not quite facing the camera, the movement of her hair captured. It was a very good photo.

Michelle looked over Erin's shoulder, “Ever considered a career in modelling?”

Erin smirked at the intended complement, “I'm a bit old.”

Anne rose from her seat to look at the photo, “The picture doesn’t think so.”

Erin shook her head, “No. Anyway, I would not know how to start.”

“I do.” Asha sipped her coffee, “My niece did some modelling, and some work as an extra in television commercials. If you were interested, I could find you a contact number.”

Erin shook her head a bit more firmly, “No, I have a good job. I like my spare time. So, thanks everybody, but No.”

“It's still a very good photo.” Michelle said.

The rest of the day was filled with last of the myriad of tiny tasks Erin had been putting off. Re-labelling files, combining duplicate files, losing typing races, competition nail filing.

#

Erin sat at her tiny table in her small apartment and contemplated the pan grilled steak on the plate before her. There was no question, she had cooked it perfectly. The vegetables were steamed and seared. The honey glaze glistened. Even the plating of the food was good and Erin was hungry. She just didn't want to eat. Grudgingly she cut a slice from the meat, marvelled at the colour, the flow of clear juices. She pushed the food around her plate with her fork. Reluctantly she ate the meat. Just as she had expected, it was delicious. Erin sighed, and went to the fridge and poured herself a glass of wine. The enclosing silence was dispelled by her phone ringing. Abandoning her wine on the kitchen counter she leapt to the phone on the bed side table.

“Hello. Erin speaking”

“Hello, Erin Speaking,” Trevor said over the phone, “Have I caught you at a good time?

Erin grinned, “Your timing is right, Mr Wright. What can I do for you?”

Trevor chuckled and the hair on the back of her neck stirred, “I'm sure you can do many things for me, but for now, I'm calling you to invite you to a beach party on Friday night.”

“Trevor, I'd love to come, but you may have noticed this is Boston, and winter is still upon us. Anyway, who has a beach party at night?”

“These are valid considerations,” Trevor replied, “However, there is a warm front due in on Thursday, winter is actually gone, and there will be a fire. The dress code is extremely casual.”

Erin frowned, “How casual?”

“Very.” Erin could hear the laughter in Trevor's voice. “A bikini and a sarong will be fine.”

“Where and when? And yes, I'll be there.”

“I'll send you the details, coming straight from work will be fine. I'll worry about food and drink. Oh. Do you own a musical instrument?”

“No. I played the piano a little when I was at school.”

“Never mind. I'll see you on Friday”

Erin smiled, “See you then.”

Erin returned to her cooling dinner and ate ravenously. The food was really very good.

#

Dennis was already in his office when Erin arrived so she dumped her belongings on her desk, took a note pad and went in. She thought Dennis looked tired.

Dennis looked up from the scattered notes covering his desk. “Good morning Erin. I hope you had a few quiet days.”

Erin sat in one of the visitor’s chairs, “Yes, Dennis. I did get a lot of outstanding tasks out of the way.” Erin paused for a moment, “We. I had wondered where you might have been.”

Dennis smirked without any humour expressed, “Yes, I'm sure you had. I was, and remain, unable to tell you. What I can say is the only thing punished more than failure, is excessive success.”

Scribbling out the half-written note, Erin asked, “What can I do now.”

“A lot of typing,” Dennis replied, “I know it is not your favourite task. Also, later I'll need you to arrange meetings, create spreadsheets. Dennis' smile warmed, “But I know you can handle difficult weeks.”

Erin was unsure how many more hard weeks she could handle, but she smiled at the complement.

Picking up a business card from the table, Dennis said, “Tomorrow I need you to be in a bit early. You and I have an 8:30 meeting.”

Erin made a note to check the T's time table, “Will you need any preparation or catering?” She asked.

“No. Just yourself.”

True to his word, Dennis flooded Erin with letters to type, emails to send, and phone calls to make. All seemed to revolve around the Roma Plastics joint venture.

Michelle brought Erin lunch which she ate at her desk while on hold to an international shipping company.  Dennis left around 4:00 pm, reminding Erin again to be in and settled by 8:30 am tomorrow. By the time she had finished the last letter it was after 7 pm. Consulting “The Bible” she found the code to set the security system, and left via the fire escape. Erin arrived home too tired to do more than set her morning alarm, eat an apple and fall into bed.

#

Erin's official start was nine am. By catching the earlier train, she was logged in and working when the other Personal Assistants arrived.

Michelle came and studied her. “I'm just checking you have not stayed overnight. It looks like you did go home.”

Monica's phone rang and her eyes widened as the person on the other end spoke. Hanging up the phone, Monica said, “That was Bill at reception. You will never guess who just came in.”

“Who?” Asha asked.

“Nicole.” Monica answered. “And she is coming up with Mr Stojoski now.”

The other PA's hurried to their desks and the soft bell of the lift was heard. Erin was stunned by the change in behaviour of the co-workers. Monica was tiding her desk, Michelle was retouching her makeup, Asha was running a lint roller over her jacket. Zoe was brushing her hair. Erin remembered Nicole had been PA for Dennis before being promoted to a management role.

Dennis opened the door and Erin caught her first sight of Nicole.

Nicole was a collection of contrasts. Young, probably around Erin’s age, yet showing a worldly confidence. Marble pale skin with jet black hair falling freely to her mid-thigh. Definitely feminine but with a boyish figure.

Nicole spoke quietly to Dennis, who proceeded to his office while Nicole stopped and spoke with Michelle. The conversation was too quiet to hear, but it left Michelle smiling. Nicole visited the desk of each of the office workers, chatting. Zoe laughed as Nicole left her desk and headed to Erin.

“Hello Erin, I’m Nicole.”

Erin found Nicole’s smile genuine and warming. Erin did not know if she should stand, curtsy or shake hands. She chose the last. Erin shook Nicole’s hand, noting her hand was narrow, her fingers long, and her grip firm.

“Erin Chambers. Charmed to meet you”. Even as the formal phrase slipped over Erin’s lips, she knew it was the wrong thing to have said.

Nicole bowed slightly, “Charmed indeed.” relieving Erin’s tension. “I believe Dennis would like you to join us in his office, if you are available.”

Erin gathered a notepad and pen and went to Dennis’ office.

“I see Nicole has already introduced herself.” Dennis said.

“Formalities have their place, but not here,” Nicole turned to Erin, “Dennis has spoken very highly of you.”

“I have heard good things about you too.” Erin replied.

Dennis smiled and sat, gesturing for the others to sit. “Erin, Nicole's department will be doing the initial prototyping of the Roma Plastics export designs. You'll be working closely with her and I wanted your first meeting to be face to face.”

Erin noted the quick glance between Dennis and Nicole and wondered if there might be other reasons for their introduction. She had liaised with other department managers - such as Brett in IT - long before they met.

Nicole smiled and her entire face lit. Erin felt herself being drawn to the woman before her. “Erin, Dennis tells me you spent a little time with Mr Bini. What can you tell me about him?”

Erin considered. She felt the question was more than it appeared, though she could not say why.

“Where to begin,” Erin mused, “He is a player. A flirt. He is actually as confident in himself as he appears. I found him to be charming, against my better judgement.”

Erin paused and wondered what it would be like to have both Salvatore’s charm and Nicole's charisma in the same room.

“He will take no for an answer, because he is sure he can get what he wants somewhere else.” Erin continued. “I danced with him and the music was very loud. He has had formal dance training. His clothes were good quality, perhaps a season or two old.”

Nicole’s eyebrows rose, “I’m impressed. Go on.”

Erin stared at the wall, trying to remember little details. “He treats his staff with, not condescension, but with the clear understanding he is their better. Still they did seem dedicated to him. He took the first limo, but all of his staff had limos. I think his staff admire him.”

Dennis leaned in, “You certainly got a lot of information.”

Nicole said, “Erin is a keen observer.” turning to Dennis she said, “If you wanted to get this sort of information, maybe you should’ve danced with him.”

Dennis blushed, as Nicole laughed.

Dennis spoke, “I think that is all we needed you for the moment. We will call you if we need anything further. Did you get all those letters out yesterday?”

“Yes Dennis.”

“What time did you leave?”

“Around seven pm.”

Dennis nodded, “Thank you Erin. Please keep track of your arrival and leaving times.”

Whatever the meeting required did not involve Erin. Nicole left an hour later, stopping at Erin's desk.

“Thanks for your time and your intelligence, this morning, Erin. I am looking forward to working with you.”

Erin stood, “You too, Nicole.”

Nicole smiled her beautiful smile again,

Nicole quickly glanced at Zoe before leaving the office her long hair flowing behind her like a mane.

Once Nicole left Anne let out a low whistle.

“Yeah, you forget after a while.” Michelle said, still looking at the door Nicole had departed by.

“Forget what?” Erin asked.

Michelle looked over at Erin, “Nicole. She has a presence. Couldn't you feel it?”

Erin nodded. “What about her hair.”

“Apparently she has not cut it since she was twelve. But she has never said why.”

Further discussions were disrupted by Dennis placing a stack of papers on Erin’s desk, “Erin, can you put these into a spread sheet? I've arranged for Anne to spend the day assisting you.”

“Sure Dennis.”

Anne rolled her eyes at Erin and grinned.

Anne manoeuvred her chair to Erin’s desk and sat.

“Does it strike you as odd,” Erin asked quietly, “That when I needed help last week you were too busy, and today you are helping me with a task I can do myself?”

Anne moved her chair closer, “Something is up. That’s for sure. And I may have a something I can still teach you.”

The rest of the day was spent under Anne's guidance, learning more than she had imagined possible about budgets and projections. It made her wish she had paid more attention at the conferences she had attended. Ducking out quickly at lunch Erin purchased a sapphire blue bikini and a selection of colourful sarongs. She hoped Trevor was right about the weather because the change room was freezing.

Mid-afternoon the Warm breeze blew in and Erin returned home carrying the jacket she had worn in the morning. She felt slightly less foolish about her new purchases.

#

Friday offered no respite from the workload. The spreadsheets Erin and Anne had created from Dennis's notes had to be completely reworked and the letters and emails sent out had generated replies and these needed to be read, sorted, collated, acknowledged and then handed to Dennis. Lunch was again purchased by Michelle and eaten at her desk.

#

Erin finished the last letter which absolutely had to go out and rested her head on her desk.

“Do not be alarmed,” Michelle said quietly, “I am approaching. Do not be startled and hurt yourself.”

Erin chuckled, “Thanks for the warning, but as long as you are not bringing more work, I don't care what you do.”

“They are working you hard.”

Lifting her head from the desk Erin said, “True, But I’m really enjoying it. I feel like I'm contributing here. Making a difference.”

Michelle sat on Erin's desk. “You are, and therefore you can really let your hair down when you come out with us tonight.”

Erin looked up and frowned, “Tonight?”

Michelle nodded, “Friday Night. Girl’s night out.”

“Oh Michelle. I can't make tonight. Trevor's invited me to a party.”

Michelle's smile dropped from her face, “No. Friday is Girl's night. He can have you on the weekend. Tonight, you’re ours.”

Erin reached out to her friend but Michelle jerked her hand away.

“I'm sorry,” Erin said, “He asked me during the week.”

Michelle jumped off Erin's desk, “Doesn't matter,” Michelle said in a tight voice, “Go have a good time with your new friends.”

“Michelle,” Erin rose from her seat.

“Just forget it.” Michelle snapped, as she grabbed her bag and strode from the office.

Anne and Asha looked from Erin to the still closing door.

Anne shrugged, “Chicks.”


	31. Beach Party

 

 

Erin waited for a taxi and tried to make sense of Michelle’s behaviour.

_Michelle has not placed a lot of importance on Girl’s Night Out before. I have missed a few, but no one had said they were compulsory. Is it her birthday? I didn’t think so._

Erin’s contemplation was stopped by an arriving taxi. She was not keen on the expense even with her current riches, but a careful study of maps revealed no way to get to tonight’s destination by public transport.  The trip took longer than she had expected and took her through South Boston to areas she had never visited.

As the taxi turned off the main road and passed by storage building and closed factories, the taxi driver turned and asked, “Are you sure you got the address right, Miss?”

Erin had started to wonder the same thing and read the address again.

The taxi driver shrugged, “You did tell someone where you were going, I hope?”

In the excitement, Erin had not told anyone. She quickly grabbed her phone and left a message on Anne’s voicemail. She hoped it would be enough.

The road wound under a railway line and then under a freeway before opening up on to a beach front. Standing on the corner was Trevor.

“There he is”, Erin shouted pointing at Trevor.

The taxi pulled over and Erin paid as Trevor opened the door.

“So glad you could make it,” Trevor said.

Erin quickly checked she had everything from the taxi, “I said I would be here.”

Trevor hesitated, “May I kiss you?”

Erin paused. He had never asked before and she wondered why he was asking now. It did steal some of the romance but it was nice he did not just assume.

“Sure”, she said.

He bent down, placed a hand on her shoulder and gently kissed her lips. Erin relaxed, a peace settled over her and she savoured the feel of his lips on hers.

Trevor smelled of timber. Erin opened her lips and tasted the fruit and rum on his tongue. His hand slid to the small of her back, pulled her closer till she was almost lifted off her toes and she tightened her arms around his neck.

Ending the kiss Trevor said, “Come on, the party has already started.” And taking her hand, led her towards the beach.

Erin shouldered her bag and rubbed her chin. The kisses were nice, more than nice - they made her feel warm and safe, but she was still getting used to the beard rash. On the edge of the shore a roaring bonfire lit the beach and illuminated the ripples on the water. Small waves lapped at its base. A number of small boats had been pulled up onto the beach and Erin guessed many of the party goers had arrived from the harbour. She looked around but could not see any building that could be Trevor’s hotel. Perhaps he was renting a room privately.

The people were an eclectic mix, perhaps thirty in total. Their ages ranged from young twenties to one grey haired couple. A tall dark couple stood out from the group. There were slightly more men than women and a handful of young children raced up and down the shore line, squealing. Most of the crowd was dressed very casually and Erin’s bikini and sarong were typical of the attire. Trevor looked out of place in his long sleeves.

Erin looked back to Trevor, “Who are all these people and where can I get changed?”

“Just some people I have met, a few locals, a few travellers”, Trevor looked at the group, “There are some toilets over there, I think they have been unlocked, or you can just wrap a towel around you.”

Erin decided to use the restrooms and found the door to be open due to the securing chain being cut. It was clean enough and the light was on. Erin felt strange changing from work wear into a swim wear after sunset in an isolated public restroom. _What was a girl to do?_

Trevor was waiting for her when she returned and his look of appreciation was well received. He handed her a bread roll stuffed with meat and onions and a plastic cup filled with a dark fruit drink.

“It’s a rum punch, with the emphasis on punch. You might want to drink it slowly.”

Erin smiled at the warning and took a tentative sip of the drink. The fruit did a poor job of hiding the alcohol as the sweet liquid left a burning trail down her throat. She blinked the tears away.

Trevor took her by the arm, “You can put your stuff with mine. Come and meet some people.”

 

Erin was introduced to several people in rapid succession and she was able to remember a few names. She formed the opinion Trevor had known some of these people for longer than he had claimed to have been in Boston. Trevor always introduced her as 'Erin, a Boston local' as if this was unusual. The food was plentiful and the wide range of pots, bowls and containers suggested most was homemade. Erin struggled to put all the pieces of this puzzle together and she felt something obvious was escaping her. The rum punch was not helping her in this endeavour.

After the flurry of introductions, Erin sat on a on a blanket beside Trevor - the fire close enough she could feel the heat against her face. Rice and pasta salad, flat bread and a generous scoop of shredded lamb loaded the plate beside her. She leaned against Trevor, closed her eyes and relaxed. Trevor shifted and he stroked her hair.

“Is everything okay?”, he asked his voice soft.

“Yes,” Erin murmured, “Why?”

“You've gone very quiet.”

“It's my first chance to relax in forever.”

Trevor said no more and the hair stroking resumed. She found it soothing. Without opening her eyes she reached for, found and finished her drink.

The first drum beat startled her, and - if there had been anything left in her cup - she would have spilled it.

A few sharp pops from the drum were followed by an extended drum roll as a second deeper drum began a throbbing beat Erin felt as well as heard. Looking around, she saw more drums being produced as well as a few guitars and miscellaneous percussion instruments. The grey haired woman, who had been introduced as Liz, had what looked like half a broom stick with metal bottle lids nailed to it in rows. Liz shook it in time with the beat and the bottle-lids rattled against each other.

Trevor took a large striped cloth bag from his possessions and removed a battered guitar from it. He looked at Erin and offered her the guitar, “Do you play?”

Erin shook her head, “Only a little piano.”

Laughing, Trevor settled the guitar onto his lap, “I’ve always thought of pianos as big; I didn't know they made little ones.”

Erin giggled, “What should I do? What will other people be doing?”

Trevor shrugged, “Whatever you want. There are not a lot of rules tonight. Eat, drink, dance, clap, rest, sleep. I'm going to play for a bit.”

Other guitars had started and, after a few moments listening, Trevor joined in. The music was a simple progression in a twelve bar pattern, but the drums dictated and dominated the sound. She saw Liz beckoning her so she went to the older woman.

Liz gestured to a basket on the sand beside her chair, “Take your pick, Dear.”

Erin saw the basket was filled with rattles and shakers and other members of the percussion family. Erin identified a pair of maracas and lifted them from the basket.

“Good choice, Dear. Bring them back when you are done”, Liz said.

“Thank you”, Erin said and returned to Trevor's side.

After a few hesitant shakes, Erin caught the beat and added to the swell of sound washing across the beach. Someone came past refilling glasses with rum punch from a jug. Taking a drink, she thought this batch was fruitier. Approaching Trevor as he played, she attempted to hold the cup to his lips. The operation involved a lot of giggling and was mostly successful with a small trickle disappearing into his beard. He laughed, blew her a kiss and kept playing.

Deciding to rest her aching arms, Erin returned the maracas to the basket and walked closer to the fire and began to dance. Her eyes closed, she danced mostly to the beat of the drums, letting her body move free of thought. She swayed, she turned, she strutted, she spun. She heard or felt or sensed movement behind her and wondered if Trevor had come to join her. Opening her eyes she saw instead the tall black man, his white shirt glowing in the moonlight. She could not remember his name, only it started with a 'K' and he and his wife were from Jamaica.

Erin laughed and thought, _Dancing on a beach with a black man, Grandma would be appalled._

Glancing in the direction of the players, she saw Trevor smiling at her. She turned back to her dance partner and danced. She danced with her eyes mostly closed. She danced mostly for herself, a little for Trevor and a little for the stranger in front of her. The fire and the movement warmed her; the throb of the drums filled her. The drink relaxed her. More people had joined the dance and Erin felt someone dancing behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her dance partner’s wife.

 _If his wife is here it must be OK,_ Erin thought.

He danced before her, his wife danced behind her. They all moved to the beat of the drums.

Erin glanced at Trevor, wondering if he was ever going to join her.

Someone was sitting in her spot. Leaning up against Trevor. A young woman.

Erin blinked in surprise. That someone had sat where she had been, that someone was so close to Trevor. That Trevor was not objecting. Erin chilled with the feeling of loss and the familiar heat of anger swept over her.

_How dare he?!_

 Erin wrenched herself from between the dancing couple and stormed towards Trevor and the young interloper. Trevor looked puzzled but the young woman at his side perhaps better understood Erin's mood because she fled down the beach into the darkness.

Erin snatched up her bag and stood in front of Trevor.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?”, she shouted.

Trevor frowned and set his guitar aside, “What are you talking about?”

Erin waved off in the direction of the fleeing girl, “What do you think I'm talking about? I'm away from your side for ten minutes and you've already replaced me”.

Trevor rose to his feet, his frown deepened and his brows knotting as he looked down at her.

Erin jabbed Trevor in the chest with her finger, “I want some answers!”

Trevor turned and strode away from the gathering to a flat area near the road. A small cluster of taxis had parked at the far end where the drivers smoked and ate takeaway.

Erin stormed after him, “Don’t you walk away while I’m talking to you!”

Trevor turned to face her, “Now you can shriek like a fishwife without disturbing other people’s enjoyment. What has gotten into you?”

“Are you seeing other people?”, Erin demanded.

“I'm seeing lots of people, Boston is a crowed place.”

“Don't act stupid. Who was that snuggled up to you?”

“That's Rebeca and I think snuggled is inaccurate.”

“Rebecca. Did you invite her here too?”

“No. I imagine she brought herself.”

“And did she invite herself to press against you?”

“Is that what this is all about? Why should that bother you to the point of public shouting?”

“You invited me. You could have at least waited till I had left before you take up with someone else.”

“Do you really think that was what was happening?”

“Like you don't know? You are from another country not another planet.”

“Listen here Erin. You answered my ad, not the other way around. Coffee, Conversation, Company. I believe I have delivered on that.”

“And what have been delivering to 'A new man every day' Rebecca?”

“You have a nasty judgemental streak, Erin, and it is not pretty.”

“You want to know what's not pretty? Being betrayed! I thought you were different, but you are just like Brian.”

“How dare you?  I bring you into my world, which I rarely do, and you repay me with wild accusations. Have I ever treated you with anything but respect?”

Erin met his glare, “I’m wondering now! Have you? How many other people are you ‘respecting’?”, she sneered the last word, “Am I Wednesday’s ‘respect’?”

“Today is Friday”, Trevor corrected.

“Don’t change the fucking subject.”

“All right Erin, here's the current subject: I meet you and, for some reason, think you seem rational so I invite you to a pretty select group of people including some of my long term friends. I introduce you, bring you food and drink. And you reward this with some incoherent rant.  What do you think you are so rightfully entitled to and are not getting?”

Erin's pulse pounded in her ears. “What do you think? I’m not part of your Beach Bordello. If you are doing something different, I deserve to know.”

“Maybe you can have whatever you are missing without the childish screaming.”

“You are just playing with words. If you are not going to take me seriously then maybe I should leave.”

“If you are not willing to have a rational discussion, perhaps you should leave.”

Trevor waved to one of the parked taxis. Erin stared at him, open mouthed. Trevor dug out a battered surfer wallet and produced two crumpled bills. Erin ripped the taxi door open and threw her belongings into the taxi.

Trevor held the money out to her, “I'd hate to see you out of pocket.”

Erin snatched the money from his hand as she climbed into the taxi and angrily slammed the door.

 “Drive”, she instructed the driver.

She did not look back as the taxi pulled away.

 

 


	32. Who's important?

 

Finally, back in the apartment, Erin allowed herself to swear. She stormed around her apartment, letting her thoughts run free.

 

_Who does he think he is? Picking up Miss Easy Teen while I was right there?_

_What was wrong with me? I was in my new blue bikini, which I bought just for him._

_OK, so he was not actually cuddling her, he was still playing, but that was my spot. She had no right. He should have pushed her away. I was right there._

_He should have been dancing with me. Wasn't I good enough? Not leaving me with someone else, no matter how exotic or handsome._

_That's not the point._

_Wait. Was it a swapping party? OOHH! He so should have told me._

_Was it? I didn’t actually see anyone doing anything, and I don’t think about Trevor like that, well rarely, and even so that still not the point ‘cause I was there with him, and she wasn’t._

_So, he is totally in the wrong. Isn't he? I was right, wasn’t I?_

_How much did I have to drink? Which doesn't matter because I was there with him, so he should have paid attention to me. I mean he usually does._

_Was I doing something wrong? Coffee, conversation, company. Is that all this is. Is that all I want? I mean, I want. What?_

_I don’t want to date, I'm not ready. Too soon, but it's nice when he holds me and he is such a scratchy kisser, but is hands are strong and firm and, and I don’t care, if he can’t keep his hands to himself. Ok he didn’t have hands on her._

_What’s her deal anyway? Always hanging on people. It's not like she'll die is she lets go._

_I need to talk to someone._

 

Erin grabbed her phone. There were no missed calls. This annoyed her and relieved her in equal measures. Phoning Anne, Erin only got a voice mail so she left a message saying she was home safe, and needed to talk. Erin considered Michelle but until she knew why Michelle was so upset, she decided against calling. She tabbed down through her contacts. Daria, Daria was smart. Without further thought Erin called her cousin.

It was only as the phone answered Erin realised it was after midnight.

“Seriously? This better be someone offering an all expenses trip to a Paris art school.” a voice answered

“Oh God, Jane. I'm so sorry. I didn't look at the time and I was so angry.”

“Erin?” Jane asked, “At the moment I'm answering to ‘Goddess Jane’, but close enough. You are lucky I had the cordless outside with me.  So, what has your family done this time?”

“I didn't wake you, did I?”

“No, I'm currently outside with a paintball gun, a canvas, and an overdue assignment in abstract expressionism. All I have to show for it so far is a startled red squirrel. Five minutes ago it was a grey squirrel, so it may have grounds for complaint.”

Erin took a deep breath,” It’s not my family. Trevor has treated me terribly and I don't know who to talk to.”

“And Trevor is …?”

Erin paused. _Who was Trevor, to her?_

“He's just a guy I know. We have coffee together and we've had dinner. And ...”

'And …?” Jane prompted.

Erin was lost in the memories, “and he teaches me about taste and coffee, and he took me to a museum and actually made it interesting and his hands are rough but gentle.”

“Right. But he is just a guy you know, and certainly not dating?”

“Of course not! We are just ... Friends. Well like friends.” Erin sighed, “I don’t know”

“Erin. How did he treat you terribly? Did he hit you?”

“No. He'd never hit me. We went to a party and I saw him with another girl”

“Ok, that sounds bad. What were they doing?”

“He was playing guitar. And she was snuggling. Or anyway leaning up against him.”

“Musicians are not to be trusted. Look Erin. This has obviously really distressed you, but I'm not seeing a picture here. What were you doing while this was happening? Did this girl just push past you and start groping your boyfriend?”

“He's not my boyfriend and I was dancing with a Jamaican couple.”

Erin paused, reviewing the scene and wondered if she had overreacted.

“Sorry Erin, I know I should be more sympathetic, you know, sister hood and all. I can hear you are upset. Have you talked to Trevor about this?”

“I ...” Erin hesitated, “I sort of started a screaming argument.”

“Not quite what I meant. So, dump him. If he is not what you want...”

“But I don't want to dump him, He's … he's too nice. I really like him.'

Erin could almost hear Jane shrug, “Well keep him. But set some ground rules. Tell him what you want.”

“But I'm not sure what you want.”

“Erin. I'm an artist. You gota start with a vision. The clearer the vision, the better the art. No idea if this helps, but it’s all I got.”

Erin sighed, “Thanks Jane. Sorry for calling so late.”

“It's OK Erin. Now I have some art to kill.”

Erin hung up the phone. She tried to recall what she had said, or shouted at Trevor, and what he had said in return, but all she could recall was the feelings. Anger, shame, loss.

Erin’s phone rang and her heart leapt at the thought it was Trevor. It was not Trevor, it was Jane.

“Erin, I’m just calling back because I thought I wasn’t very supportive. I’m sorry, this project has been frustrating and I’m pretty tired. Just wanted to say if you need something, a place to stay, someone to get drunk with, an alibi, I’m here to support you. Daria too, though I’m not waking her up to confirm.”

“Thanks Jane, I’m actually a bit drunk already. I think I’ll just sleep on it. Maybe it’ll make sense in the morning. Good night Jane”

“Good night Erin.”

Erin saw she now had a missed call. Someone had called her at in the middle of the night and left a message. Her heart tight in her chest she played the message.

“ _Erin. It's Trevor. Look we both said things tonight that maybe we shouldn't. I'll be having breakfast at The T_ _enean Brasserie. Please, join me for breakfast. If I don't see you by noon, then I guess I won’t see you again.”_

Erin stared at the phone. Shaking her head, she said, “No. This is all too hard.”

Erin went to bed, but set an alarm for early.

#

Erin woke with a light hangover. She lay in bed and thought.

_I don’t want to throw away a good thing because of one fight. Especially one where I might have been in the wrong. I have someone who cares for me, is kind to me, looks out for me, who seems to enjoy my company, just because it’s me. It is too valuable to let go._

Erin sat up and grabbed her phone; almost dropping it in her haste and dialled a number.

“Hello Michelle, it’s Erin. Can I buy you breakfast?

#

The smell of pastries and coffee filled Erin's car, tormenting her empty stomach. She resisted the urge to steal a croissant. She did not think it would be much of a peace offering if the food had bites out of it.

Michelle was waiting at the front door of her house when Erin arrived. Balancing the coffees on the pastry box Erin wordlessly passed her puzzled friend and carefully deposited her cargo on the table. Erin turned and hugged her friend.

“I really don't know what I did wrong, though I can kind of guess, and I'm sorry and I brought you breakfast to make up for whatever I did wrong.” Erin rushed forestalling Michelle.

“Erin, honey,” Michelle said, “You have done nothing wrong. I was just … you know it doesn't matter why. It was not your fault.”

“Can we eat then?” Erin asked, “Because I'm starving.”

Michelle smiled and gestured to the table. Erin now saw the table also had orange juice in a jug and a muesli and milk. She opened the box of pastries and selected a croissant. Michelle followed suit. Sitting at the table, Michelle said, “It should be me apologising, I had no right to blow off at you. I'd made an assumption and I guess I felt stood up.”

“Friends again? Erin asked.

“We never stopped.”

Erin and Michelle ate in companionable silence.

Michelle brushed the crumbs from her top, “So how did last night go?”

Erin took a sip of her coffee, “It was an unmitigated disaster. I messed it up so badly. Or he did. One of those. Maybe both.”

“What happened?”

“We went to a beach party, and there was music and dancing, and while I was dancing another girl sat next to Trevor and leant up against him.”

“That's not good. So, you got into a fight with this girl?”

“No. I started screaming at Trevor, and Trevor dragged me aside and we had a screaming argument and I said I was going to leave and he paid for the taxi.”

Michelle reached out and placed her hand over Erin's, “He shouted at you? That sounds awful.”

Erin sighed, “I did start it, and I made some pretty nasty accusations, but he was being difficult. I don't know what to do.”

Erin nibbled a Danish, lost in thought.

“I know what I want you to do, but I don't know if it is what is best for you.”

Erin looked at her friend, “Why are they different?”

Michelle looked away, “I want you to dump him and to spend your weekends with me. We could shop or go to Power Yoga together. Have Nail polish parties and sleep overs, clubs and movies. All the things School or Collage are supposed to provide but didn't. I enjoy being with you, you are the nicest, sweetest person I have ever met and when I am with you, I'm not lonely anymore.”

“Oh, Michelle.”

“But you are happy when you are with him. I can see the shine in your eyes when you talk about him. I can hear you defending him even as you talk about how mean he was to you. I had a boyfriend, a boyfriend who wanted to marry me, who didn't speak as well about me. Now poor lonely Michelle wants you to dump the person who makes you happy. I'm a bad friend.”

“Michelle you are a good friend. You are my best friend and you take care of me, and you have never screamed at me, certainly not in front of a group of your friends I barely know.”

Erin got up and went around to hug Michelle, “Trevor, if I ever decide to see him again, is on a temporary visa. He won’t be here in a few months. I'll be your friend for ever.”

Smirking through her tears, Michelle asked, “Best Friends Forever?”

“Isn't it what School or College is supposed to provide but didn't?”

Michelle laughed and hugged Erin, “If we weren't both straight, I'd marry you.”

Erin sat back down, “I'm not going to pretend to be gay, no matter how many problems it solves.”

The two friends continued their breakfast.

When the cups were empty and the remaining pastry was only crumbs, Erin asked, “So what do you think I should do?”

“Tell me about last night. Partially so I can offer informed advice, but mostly for the juicy gossip value.”

As best as she remembered, Erin calmly recited the events of last night.

“So, in the worst light, you embarrassed him in front of his friends, called one of them a slut and accused him of infidelity? Did I miss anything?”

Erin studied the floor, “I said he was just like Brian, and maybe called him deceitful?”

Michelle shook her head, “When you go to town on someone, you take the express bus, don’t you?”

“Do you think he will ever talk to me again?” Erin asked.

“Do you care? Michelle asked in reply.

Erin's head snapped up, “Yes. Of course I care.” Erin expression became one of amazement. “I really do care.”

“I thought so.” Michelle smiled.

“Oh My God.” Erin gasped, “He said if I did not see him again before noon, he would know it was over. I have to go. What time is it?”

Michelle checked the clock, “Almost eleven.”

“If I hurry, I can make it.”

“Where is it?”

“South Boston, on the harbour”

Michelle shook her head, “You won’t make it. I was watching the news before you arrived. There has been a multi car accident and with the road works.” Michelle shrugged, “They were suggesting allowing an extra two hours.”

Erin jumped up and ran to the front door and then back to Michelle. “What do I do?”

“Step one. Calm down. Do you have his phone number?”

“Yes.”

'Then call him. He will understand.”

Erin dialled, listened, hung up and dialled again. “It doesn't connect.”

Michelle had placed a large street directory on the table, “Let’s find this place.”

Erin replayed the voicemail and Michelle wrote down the address and quickly found the location. Michelle whistled.

“Definitely a ritzy part of town. There aren’t any cheap places on the harbour.”

Erin had dialled again, “Still nothing.”

Michelle had looked through the phone book. “I can’t find a number for the restaurant in here.”

Erin reached for her phone again.

Michelle put her hand over Erin’s phone, “Erin. Are you serious about this?”

Erin nodded, “But it's too late. You said I'll never get there.”

Michelle grinned, “You won't, but we will. I promise.”

#

Erin fiddled with the straps of her borrowed helmet while Michelle wheeled the motorcycle out of the garage. In Erin’s opinion there was not enough of it. Jane Lane might have considered it a work of minimalist automotive art.

“Is that all of it?” Erin asked.

“All you need and nothing more.”

Michelle’s promise of delivery had resulted in a Leather jacket snug in some places and too tight everywhere else and an open-face helmet. Michelle had explained it was her sister’s gear.

Michelle, in her own jacket and helmet, swung a leg over the bikes tiny seat.

“Honestly Michelle, I thought motorcycles were bigger.”

“Harley’s, perhaps. Goldwing’s, definitely. But for our needs, nothing beats a café racer.”

Lifting her boot and slamming it down the bike gave a soft cough and was silent.

“Our needs also require a vehicle to start. Let’s take my car, I’m sure …”

Michelle’s gave a second kick and a twist of the wrist and the bike was momentarily clouded in metallic blue smoke. Michelle gunned the engine into a high-pitched whine before settling the bike into a staccato idle.

 _Great_ , thought Erin _, I’m riding to my death on a hedge trimmer_.

Michelle gestured with a flick of her head, “Get on the back, Red.”

Erin looked dubiously at what remained unoccupied of the seat, “Michelle. I have seen postage stamps larger than this seat.”

“Get on, or get left behind.”

“You have gone very weird.” Erin muttered as she swung a leg over and sat on the seat. The foot pegs were the size of her thumb. She could see no grab rails.

“What do I hang on to?” Erin asked,

“Me.”

As soon as Erin had reached around Michelle, the bike leapt away. Erin was sure they had covered half the street before the front wheel touched the ground.

Erin was dismayed when she saw the traffic but Michelle simply rode between the rows of cars.

“Is this legal?” Erin yelled above the wind.

“It’s bound to be legal somewhere.” Michelle shouted back. “Anyway, this is where we turn.” They dived the small bike down a service alley. Erin was certain she could reach out and touch the walls, if she was willing to spend the rest of her life without hands.

Darting back into another congested road Michelle split the traffic again. Erin, with her head pressed against Michelle’s back, saw the distinctive livery of a police car.

“Police” she yelped.

“Yep, I saw. Don’t worry. They are stuck in traffic.”

“They have guns, Michelle. They have helicopters. They have helicopters with guns. Is scaring me to death me not enough?”

Erin’s fears of pursuit and incarceration did not eventuate and soon they were speeding down a road by the side of a rail line.

“There is no bridge anywhere near here.” Erin yelled.

“Yes, there is.” Michelle called back.

“I’m sure there isn’t.”

Ahead Erin saw a station, but no road bridge. There was only a foot bridge.

“No!”

“Oh yes.”

Erin could hear the glee in Michelle’s voice.

As the bike veered off the road and onto the side walk, Erin gripped Michelle tighter and closed her eyes, “It’s a foot bridge. For feet.”

Erin felt a bump and the steep ascent of the ramp. She opened her eyes for the sharp turn at the top and waved feebly at the startled station staff as they rode past, then a matching decent and back on a road.

Michelle picked up speed and toed her way up through the gears. Erin gingerly peeked around her friend to see the needle pass 100. Michelle gave a whoop of excitement.

Erin squealed as the bike tipped into a corner, sparks trailed from the foot pegs. Then the bike was upright. Slowing to a walking pace as it made its way through a car park half filled with a mix of cars and boats. Willing to finally look around Erin saw marinas on all sides with yachts and powerboats. Trevor had said he stayed here because the rent was inexpensive, but nothing here was inexpensive.

Michelle stopped in front of a spacious restaurant. She checked her watch. “11:55, we made it by five minutes. Now go in and WOW him.”

Erin dismounted and wobbled as her legs recovered. “Are you coming in?”

Michelle removed her own helmet and then helped Erin with her strap. “No Honey. This is your show.” Michelle took the spare helmet from Erin, “I might go look at the sea.”

Erin unzipped her jacket, squared her shoulders and entered the restaurant. There was only one occupant. Trevor.


	33. What is dating?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A bit sad is places  
> Trigger: Reference to past death & suicide.

#

The unzipped, borrowed jacket and the over-tight leather pulled Erin’s shoulders back into a display of confidence she did not feel. She wanted to feel in control, but instead she felt like a fraud. She wanted to slap Trevor's face and throw herself into his arms.

Trevor was the only visible occupant, though a clatter indicated activity in an unseen kitchen. The restaurant's tables were clustered at the far end of room near the room-wide bar, leaving a large area vacant. Anger, embarrassment, regret and longing churned through her as the sight of a dance floor triggered memories of the previous night. She took a deep breath to settle her emotions.

Trevor sat with a clear view of the door. Cups, bottled water, books, a plate of toasted crusts, a calculator, note pads, a few pens and a large pair of binoculars haphazardly occupied the table. His eyes met Erin's and he froze. He stood, his gaze never leaving Erin.

They met on the open floor between the door and the tables and they stood within arm’s reach but not touching.

Trevor spoke first, “I wasn’t sure you would come.”

“I wasn't sure I was going to.” Erin replied.

Trevor smiled sadly, “I’m glad you did.”

“Yes. I wanted to see you again.” Erin stared at him. “I note I had to come to you.” Her tone was sharper than she intended.

“I would have come to you, but I don't know where you live and I hardly thought you would be willing to tell me last night.”

Erin frowned, “Yes, you got that right and I don't know where you live either. You said you stayed here because it was inexpensive. Nowhere near here is in expensive.”

“Would you like to see?”

Erin thought they were avoiding the bigger issues, but at least they were talking. “The outside, yes. Is it far?”

Trevor picked up the binoculars and beckoned for Erin to follow. He led to the large windows looking over Boston Harbour. “Have you used binoculars before?”

“No.” Erin shook her head.

Trevor offered them to her “Look at the corner of the marina. The red building. Now without moving your head bring up the binoculars until you can see the building through them. Tell me when you have got it. The binoculars are self-focusing.”

Erin looked at the distant building finally finding the corner. “Got it.”

“Okay. Now pan left following the marina till you get to the end.”

“Got it.” Erin said again. She was forming a suspicion.

“Good.” Trevor said, “Now raise your view and you should see a yellow hulled yacht. On a swing mooring.”

“Yellow hull, White deck. It has a picture of an owl on the bow?” Erin was pleased at remembering her nautical terms.

“Very good, indeed.” Trevor paused, “You are looking at the yacht ‘Athena’. She has been my home for the last four years.”

Erin lowered the binoculars and stared at Trevor. Things fell into place. The harbour meeting place, the beach party, the comments about inexpensive lodgings on the harbour.

“You live on a sail boat?” She asked.

Trevor drew himself up and replied indignantly, “She is a Swanson 36, surveyed to international standards. Athena in no sailboat, she is a yacht!”

Erin took a step back, and Trevor shook his head, “Sorry, Sorry. I'm a little sensitive about her. Yes. A sailing vessel and yes, I live on Athena.”

“One of my mother’s boyfriends had a sailboat. He was a … We didn't get on.”

“Yachts, you see, are owned by gentlemen.” Trevor paused for a moment, “Or gentle women.”

Erin looked around, “Where are your crew?”

“I don't have any. I sail solo. Most of the time.”

Erin thought back, “Didn't you say your previous job was in England?”

“Wales.”

“You sailed from Wales to Boston, across the Atlantic Ocean, alone in winter?” Erin raised the binoculars again. “I'm sorry, but she does not seem big enough.”

“I did have a temporary crew down to the Canary Islands, But then solo.”

Erin continued to look at ‘Athena’, “On your own,” She said, “for thousands of miles.”

“Yes.” Trevor confirmed, “So now you know where I live.”

Lowering the binoculars, Erin turned to Trevor, “Thank you for showing me your sa… yacht.” She handed back the binoculars.

“I wanted ...” Trevor looked away and sighed, “I’d like to apologise for last night. It was not one of my proudest moments.”

Erin had expected some residual anger from Trevor. She certainly had enough to spare, the regret she saw in his face surprised her. She had wanted to see him, but she had expected there to be more fight. Her grandmother would have given her the silent treatment for a month, her mother would fill the morning with snide remarks and Brian would have made it her fault.

 _Perhaps I need to stop judging Trevor on other people’s behaviour,_ Erin thought.

“Trevor,” Erin said, “Would you buy me a coffee?”

Trevor searched her face, a hopeful smile forming, “It would be my honour.”

Trevor held the chair while Erin struggled out of the bike Jacket. When she was seated Trevor signalled the now apparent barista and sat beside her.

Trevor cleared his throat.

Erin raised her hand. “No. It's my turn.”

Now Erin had the conversation she had no idea what to do with it. Barksdales never apologised.

“I may not have been on my best behaviour last night.”

Trevor raised an eyebrow and Erin saw his understated humour. She smiled in return.

“I'm not good at this, give me a moment.”

Inclining his head Trevor said, “As long as you need.”

Erin took a deep breath, “I probably over reacted last night. No, I did overreact. At least I could have given you a chance to explain before I tried to bite your head off. I jumped to conclusions. I guess I expect to be let down.”

Erin looked at Trevor as he sat silently watching her, “Aren't you going to say something?” she asked.

Trevor tilted his head, “Your attack startled me. At the time, it seemed to come from nowhere. But I did not try to calm the situation. I'd felt embarrassed in front of people I knew and I let my embarrassment become anger. We weren't there alone you know, but perhaps you felt alone. I realise now you didn't know anyone and maybe you felt isolated.”

“Did anyone say anything?”

Erin wondered if people had commented about her.

“I don't know.” Trevor paused, his cheeks blushing above his beard.  “I grabbed my stuff and left. I have not seen any of them today.” He smiled slightly, “My guess is they are caring for their hangovers. Our issues are probably not important to others.”

Erin had not thought about what Trevor would do. She had not thought how the fight would affect him, let alone others.

The rattle of cup on saucer announced the arrival of coffee. A shot glass of expresso was placed before her. She lifted the glass and inhaled the scent, held it, savoured it. The strong bitter notes gave way to the softer caramel. She sipped the drink; her eyes still closed and tasted the faint citrus after taste. Opening her eyes, she saw Trevor's smiling at her and blushed.

“I have learned a few things.”

“Are you hungry?” Trevor asked. “I did not wait for you, I'm afraid.”

Erin shook her head, “No, Thank you.” Erin reached into her bag and withdrew a slightly crumpled envelope. She pushed it across the table to Trevor.

“What's this?” Trevor did not pick it up.

“It's your change. I accept you paying for the taxi, but you gave me two hundred dollars.”

Trevor’s eyes widened, “I gave you how much?” He quickly recovered his expression. “I'm happy for you to keep it, if you want.”

“No.” Erin shook her head, “It's too much. Take it back or I will feel paid for.”

Trevor quickly picked up the envelope and put it in his jacket pocket, “That's not how I want you to feel.”

Erin cupped her hands around her coffee, “I was angry, I was hurt, and I said some things maybe I would not have said in calmer moments.”

Trevor sipped his coffee and watched her.

 “I really want to have a serious talk with you. I want to work out where we are, with each other. You were an asshole last night, but you have been good every other time.”

Trevor nodded, “I was an arsehole last night and I apologise. You are good company. I would hate to lose that.”

Smiling Erin asked, “Aren’t you going to say I was an asshole?”

“I don’t think it’s necessary, nor does it get either of us the things we said we wanted.”

Erin sighed and looked at the floor. “I was though, wasn’t I?”

Trevor gently lifted her chin till she was looking into his eyes, “I wouldn’t say that.”

Erin looked out the window, “Okay. I like you; I want to keep seeing you. But with rules.”

Trevor smiled and nodded, “I would like to count you as my friend, and would like to get to know you better.”

Trevor ordered a plate of cheese toasties and they looked at each other while the waiter departed.

“So?” Trevor finally asked, “How do you want to do this?”

Erin frowned, “Why don't we ask each other questions?”

“You want to play Truth or Dare?” Trevor asked raising an eyebrow.

Erin grinned, “Just Truth. I'm not running around the marina in my underwear.”

Trevor nodded, “A wise choice. Ladies first. What would you ask?”

Erin pondered her first question, feeling she should start with a big question. Maybe she should start easy and work up.

_Nah_

 She looked into Trevor’s eyes, “Are we dating?”

Trevor's eyes widened, “Diving in at the deep end I see. Remember I am an engineer, I’ll give engineer answers.”

“Quit stalling”, Erin interjected.

“Are we dating? I would say no.” Trevor sat back in his chair.

Erin eyes widened, “Then what do you think we are doing?”

 “No.” Trevor said softly, “I believe the rules state it is my turn.”

Erin pouted, “Ok. Ask.”

Trevor considered, “Before you asked your previous question. Did you think we were dating, and why?”

Erin raised a finger, “No double-barrelled questions. No single questions in forty-seven parts. One question. And yes. Though I was trying to deny it Yes, I thought we were dating.”

Trevor nodded.

Erin continued, “As for why. We were close and getting closer. You shared things with me, you held me, you accepted me.” Tears formed in Erin's eyes, “You accepted me when I was sick. You kissed me. Doesn't that mean something? Isn’t that dating?”

Trevor moved to kneel beside Erin and hugged her. “Yes Erin. It does mean something. I would not have spent time with you if I did not care. I've been drawn closer to you than I wanted to admit.” Trevor sighed, “If you think of dating just as a series of activities, then perhaps we were. For me Dating is an intentional agreement intended to lead to a more permanent arrangement and it is not an option open to us.”

Erin gently pushed him away. “I'm supposed to be giving you a hard time and setting my boundaries. Not collapsing weeping into your arms.” Erin sniffed.

Trevor shrugged, “Who says you can't do both. They're your rules.” Trevor looked up. “Toast is coming.” Trevor returned to his chair as the staff member placed plates and food on the table.

Erin picked up a triangle of toast and melted cheese, “Why do you always get these? And that’s not my next question, it’s just conversation.”

Trevor placed a couple of toast triangles on his plate, “I travel a lot and it’s a dish with little opportunity to screw up. Cheese melted on toast is the same from Boston to Madrid. Still your question, I believe.”

Erin bit the corner of her toast and stared at the ceiling.

  _What did she want? What did she want from Trevor? What did she want from life? Why was she in the strange café, eating toast with a person she hardly knew?_

“Why, Trevor? Why everything? Why anything?”

“Is that your question?” Trevor asked, “Because if it is, I’ll need some context.”

Erin sighed, “It is my question, just not for you. Okay here’s my question for you. If we are not dating,” – she gestured between them – “what is this?”

“I’m tempted to say ‘A Table’, “Trevor grinned, “but my arsehole days are behind me. We are, I think, friends. You are intelligent, brave, curious and honest. It’s is a combination no sane person would pass by.”

“Brian did.” Erin interjected bitterly.

“My statement stands as it is.” Trevor continued, “The fact you are pretty doesn’t hurt, but it’s not enough on its own.”

Erin blushed, “You think I’m pretty?”

Trevor studied her, “Don't you own a mirror? Yes, you are physically attractive, in addition to being mentally attractive.”

“So just friends?” Erin’s emotions swung between the pleasure of being admired and the chagrin of being friend-zoned.

Trevor smiled and shook his head, “I spend half my life alone at sea. I have no higher echelon for you to aspire.”

“Friends with benefits?” she asked and instantly wished she hadn't.

“Having a friend is a benefit on its own. If you mean sex, then unless you have been spiking my drink, I think I would have remembered.” Trevor smiled, “Are you asking or offering?”

“Neither. I'm just clarifying.”

Trevor took another piece of toast, “Whose question is it?”

“Yours.” Erin answered, “And you just asked it.”

Raising he coffee in salute he said, “Well played. Ask away.”

Erin decided on an easy question. “Is Athena your first boat?”

Trevor shrugged slightly, “The Athena you see out there is my third yacht. They have all been named Athena.”

“Have you ever been to sea?” he asked, following Erin's trend.

“Sorry no. I don’t think Lake Geneva counts.”

Erin was silent, but her thoughts were racing. She was certain there was something missing. Something Trevor was hiding. She remembered one of their earliest conversations, about running away. He would not talk about it then.

“Trevor.” Erin said, startling him from his own contemplations, “What did you run away from?” She watched the colour drain from his face, and realised there were some questions better left unasked.

Trevor placed his hands on the table, and Erin was suddenly afraid he was going to leave.

He sighed, “You remembered. It's nice you were paying attention. I guess.”

“You don't have to answer.” Erin said hurriedly.

“I know, but I choose to. I believe I can trust you with my secrets”

She nodded and searched for some way to lighten the mood, “Why. Did you kill someone?” Erin giggled at her own joke.

He stared into her eyes for a long moment, till she felt the fear rise with in her. Her smile slipped away.

“Yes.” he whispered.

Erin realised how little she knew about the man at her table. He was bigger, stronger, probably faster than her. She was in a place she didn't know and her one friend was far enough away to be unreachable.

Erin shook her head to clear her thoughts. Trevor sat with his head in his hands. She did not believe he was dangerous. She had never felt safer with anyone.

“I'm sorry to doubt you. But it seems so unlike you.”

Trevor looked up. “Let me tell you a story. I'll keep it short.”

She nodded her assent.

“Once upon a time. A young man met a young woman at University and they fell madly in love. Stupidly, madly in love. They got married and in due course she was pregnant. They had been warned pregnancy could be dangerous for her, but they didn't listen. Certain the magic of their love would conquer all.”

Trevor took a deep breath, “They swore a blood oath to love each other for all time and to always be there for each other. But the doctors were right. Something went wrong during the birth”.

Tears ran unheeded down Trevor's face. “She was my wife. She and our baby died in child birth. Do you know the last words she said to me?”

Erin’s tears mirrored Trevor's, “I love you?” Erin guessed.

“I wish. Oh, by all the gods looking down in contempt, I would wish. No. Her last words were 'Save me.' And I couldn’t. I had promised her everything and the one thing she asked of me, I could not do.”

Trevor's shoulders shuddered as he sobbed and Erin was at a loss for what to do.

Into his hands Trevor continued, “She had reached out to me, but there were so many doctors and nurses around her I could not even hold her hand. I watched her die. Later they allowed me alone with the body. They shouldn't but they did. I suppose to say goodbye or some shit. She was cold. So cold.”

Trevor looked up to Erin, “She hated being cold. I kept putting more blankets on her but she wouldn't warm up. I called her and called her. But she wouldn't come back.  They had to drag me away from her.”

Trevor drew shuddering breaths.

Erin reached out placing her hand on his shoulder.

“What did you do?” She asked.

Twisting his lips into a semblance of a smile he unbuttoned the cuff of his left sleeve. Pulling the sleeve back to reveal his left forearm. To Erin, the scar looked as if someone had dribbled wax thickly up his arm. Starting at the base of his thumb and ending the crook of his elbow. The scar was thick and white.

“If I could not call her to me. Then at least I could go to her.”

Erin’s eyes widened in horror. “Did it hurt?” She silently cursed herself for the stupid question.

“Yes.” Trevor said, “It hurt my parents who loved me. It hurt my friends, our friends who were already suffering from her loss. It hurt her parents who I should have supported. It hurt the medics who brought me back to life. Yes Erin, it hurt.”

“You died?”

“Twice. I was dead for about four minutes. I searched, but I could not find her.” Trevor shook his head. “When I had sufficiently recovered from my madness. I sold everything and bought the first Athena. I have not stayed in one place for longer than six months since.”

Trevor rolled his sleeve back down. “It's one of the reason's I don’t shave.”

Erin stroked his face, “That is so sad, Trevor. But you didn't kill her.”

Trevor jerked back, “Yes, I ...”

“No.” Erin interrupted. “You both took a risk. You can own that. But you did not kill her. You can miss her. But don't muddy her memory.”

“You don't know what it's like.”

“I have never lost someone I cared about. Maybe I have never cared about anyone that much. But I do know all about taking on blame for things that were not my fault. It was my family job description. I know it when I see it.”

Trevor's eyes narrowed.

Erin shook her head, “Don't look at me like that. I actually care about you. You were both young, you made foolish choices and yes, she died. But you did not kill her, any more than she killed herself.” Erin found herself standing.

Trevor sighs, “It does not feel that way. It's one of the reasons I didn't want you to get too close. I did not want you needing me only to be let down.”

“I understand.” Erin said returning to her seat. “Or I think I do. You don’t think you are reliable, or trustworthy, or something. So you are trying to keep us an ‘Just friends’ so nobody get s hurt.”

Trevor nodded.

“Well I’m not 100% reliable either, no one is. Neither are you. And keeping us at just friends has already hurt us.” Erin Sighed, “I’m not trying to make light of your pain. I’m really not. But don’t ask the impossible of either of us. And there is the other thing of course.”

Trevor frowned, “The other thing?”

“Yes. Neither of us were very good at ‘Just Friends’”

“True.” Trevor acknowledged ruefully.

“In some ways we made the same mistake. We both tried to make real life into a fairy tale.”

Trevor frowned, “I think that is stretching it a bit.”

Erin looked down for a moment. “Possibly. But I’m no longer depending my happiness on someone else. Not even you.”

 Trever looked surprised, “That’s good.”

Erin gestured with the last piece of toast, “I don't need you for me to be happy. I don't need you for me to be complete. And you don't need me either. So; I think it is safe for us to date.”

Trevor chuckled, his beard still wet from tears.

“Seeing you like to have formal declarations”, Erin continued, “Trevor Wright, would you like to go out with me?”

“You are asking me out?”

“Yes. For dating like activities, much like we have been doing.” Erin blushed, “There may be more later. Maybe.” She looked at his amused and puzzled expression, “Didn't you do this in High School?”

Trevor laughed out loud, “Erin. I went to a very conservative all boys’ school. Intra school dating was not encouraged.”

Erin covered her face, “College, then.”

“Very well. I accept. But I don't know what this gets you.”

“It gets me, us, some agreed rules.”

Trevor inclined his head in acknowledgement, “But we have not agreed on any rules. Are you asking for exclusivity?”

Erin paused, “I was going to say no, but actually, yes. This is a bit unfair, because I am not offering anything.” She frowned, “Could we at least discuss it before… you know?”

“You have it.”

“Do you think this is how lawyers date?”

“No. We don’t have written contracts.”

A sudden thought struck her, “Trevor. The couple I was dancing with. Were they …? I mean was I ...?” Erin floundered, the colour in her cheeks rising,

“The Jamaican couple?”

Erin nodded.

Trevor looked out the window smiling, “Yes. I believe if you had stayed, they would have made you an offer to go to their boat and make Oreos.”

“Oreos?” Erin blushed deeper.

“Think about it.”

Erin shook her head enough to cover her face with her hair, “Not my thing. No.” She brushed her hair aside, “Both of them?”

Trevor nodded, “So rumour has it. I can't speak from personal experience.”

Trevor reached for some toast only to find the plate empty. “Since we are a dating, would you like to stay for lunch?”

Erin looked around and noticed the late afternoon sky. “Oh My God!”

“What?”

'Michelle. She rode me here on her motorbike.”

Trevor stood, “Let’s go find her.”

 

 

They found Michelle seated on a bench looking out over the harbour. Trevor held back as Erin approached her friend.

“Well?” Michelle asked when she saw Erin. “Did you kick his ass?”

“Not exactly.” Erin said as she looked over Michelle's shoulder.

Michelle turned and stood, facing Trevor.

Her dark sunglasses, black leather jacket over a tight t-shirt, jeans tucked in to motorcycle boots, gave her a tough look. Her long silent appraisal of Trevor enhanced the impression. Erin wondered if Michelle was going to hit him.

Michelle looked back at Erin, “That's him?” Michelle studied Trevor again.

“Yes.” Erin moved till she was between Michelle and Trevor. Turning to Michelle she bowed slightly, “Michelle. May I present, Trevor.”

Michelle blinked at the requests, “I guess so.”

Erin gestured to Trevor without taking her attention from Michelle. Hours of Finishing School training falling into place. “Michelle, this is Trevor Wright, a visitor to our shore. I have spoken of him previously.” Erin stepped back.

Stepping into the space Erin had left Trevor offered his hand. “Michelle. I am very pleased to meet you. Erin has spoken highly of you.”

Michelle shook his hand, “Yeah. I heard about you, too.” She laughed. “I guess Erin sees something in you.”

“So, Erin. Are you giving him another chance?”

Erin grinned, “Yes. We are now officially dating.”

Michelle's smile slipped slightly, “Well. Great.” Michelle's flat tone belied her words, “Guess I should be heading home. The bike’s headlight is not really good enough for dark roads.” She turned away.

Erin's eyes widened in surprise.

“Actually,” Trevor said, “I was hoping you would join us for lunch?”

Michelle turned back, “I'd rather not be a third wheel.”

Trevor shook his head, “You are not a third wheel. You are Erin's best friend and you are more important to her than I will ever be.”

Michelle gave Trevor an apprising look, “So you are trying to butter me up.”

“Yes.” Trevor said grinning at Michelle's surprise, “Exactly what I am doing.”

Erin watched as Trevor and Michelle studied each other.

“Alright.” Michelle conceded, “But I was not joking about the head light. It's pretty weak.”

Erin impulsively hugged Michelle. “Thank you, Michelle,”

#

The three sat over lunch.

“Alright.” Michelle said to Trevor, “Seeing you are going to be hanging around, I should know something about you.”

“Hey.” Erin said, “I've told you some things.”

Michelle flicked a quick glance at Erin before returning her gaze to Trevor, “Maybe you had forgotten to take your rose-coloured glasses off.”

Trevor shrugged, “I was born in New Zealand. I work as an engineer. I live on a yacht. I travel a lot. I try to be a gentleman.”

“And what are your intentions to our Erin?”

“Michelle!” Erin said.

Trevor laughed, “Well I plan to kidnap her to be the cabin boy. But you are not to tell her. I want it to be a surprise.”

Michelle laughed as Erin made a show of mock offence.

“Is it true what they say about yachties?”

“Yes, but it’s not all true about all of us, all the time.”

Michelle raised a hand, “No seriously.”

“I'm not sure. It is not one of the things we have discussed. I hope to spend weekends with her. Explore Boston; maybe see a band, got to a show. Things Erin suggests.” He turned to Erin, “With your permission, of course.”

Michelle nodded. “Sounds good. But on Friday nights she belongs to me.”

“I'm right here, you know.” Erin said.

Trevor frowned, “I don’t wish to argue with you, but people are not property. Erin does not belong to anyone. Not you, not me.”

“You know what I mean.” Michelle said.

Erin reached out and put a hand on a hand of each of her companions. “Please don't fight. Fridays is Girl's Night Out.” Erin shook her head, “This is why I didn't want to date. It makes everything harder.”

Michelle looked at Erin, “I rode you over here to give Trevor a second chance.” Michelle spread her hands, “Now I feel like a matchmaker in a Russian movie.”

Erin squeezed Michelle's hand, “You are still my friend.”

“Yes.” Michelle shot back, “And he is your friend you are also dating.”

Erin frowned, “What? Do you want me to date you too?”

“Yes. No. No, of course not.” Michelle started to stand. “I should go.”

To Erin's surprise it was Trevor who spoke.

“Please don’t go, Michelle.”

Michelle looked at Trevor but did not sit.

Trevor continued, “You are very important to Erin and I don’t want to come between you. You are her best friend.”

Michelle sat again. “Are you sure you are not trying to add me to your Harem?” She asked.

“It seems Erin is old fashioned.” Trevor replied, “The one rule she has been clear on is exclusivity.”

Michelle shook her head in mock sadness, “I blame her Virginian upbringing.”

“Do you both mind?” Erin asked. “Anyway, we are just dating at the moment, not … anything else.”

A large platter arrived containing flat bread and many different Turkish dips. The three ate in silence.

Erin tentatively reached out and held Trevor's hand while they ate.

Michelle cocked her head on the side, “Ok. I will grant you do make a cute couple, even if the age gap is bordering on creepy.” Michelle grinned “Does he remind you of your father, Erin?”

Erin dropped her gaze, “I really don’t remember much about my Father. Mom said he didn’t stay very long.”

Michelle winced, “Sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t know.” Erin replied.

“Does anyone have something to get this foot out of my mouth?” Michelle asked.

Trevor grinned, “I have a block and tackle on Athena that might do the job.”

The ensuing laughter broke the last of the ice and they completed lunch sharing trivial details about their lives.


End file.
